Breach of Fate
by Sage of Angst
Summary: Follow Niwa Daiichi, the son of Niwa Daisuke, as he struggles to find his true self while juggling school, love, and a phantom thief that should have been sealed 20 years ago... Explores the futures of the Niwa and Hikari lines as proposed in episode 13.
1. A Little Boy I Once Knew

_Author's Notes_: I had to get it out of my system, as the notes had been sitting on my hard-drive for a good month, waiting to be fleshed out. _D.N.Angel_ is, without a doubt, my absolute favorite series out there, and well deserving of decent fics. Hope this will count as one. ^_^ *crosses fingers* WARNING: this will contain spoilers GALORE, so if you haven't seen the whole anime and don't wanna be spoiled, don't read! Or better yet, go and watch the rest of the anime, THEN read.

* * *

_Breach of Fate_

_Chapter One: A Little Boy I Once Knew_

   "Niwa-kun, you _jerk_! Give it back! _Niwa-kun_!" The shrill cries of Niwa Daiichi's classmate could be heard from one end of the sullen classroom to the other, as once again the day drew to a close and the students of No. 2 Azumano Junior High prepared to depart for their respective homes. The shorter boy, apparently the object of Daiichi's teasing for the week, jumped, grunting angrily, at the pencil case which hovered just out of reach in the taller boy's firm grip, taunting him. "Just—give it—"

   "_Niwa_!" the sharp authoritative voice of a male teacher slit the air as a door slid open with a _thunk_. Daiichi winced a bit penitently and lowered his arm slightly, face twisting into a pout as he passed the case back to its owner, ruffling the boy's thin hair lightly when the teacher again turned his back. He slipped nimbly off the desk he'd been situated on, sending it rocking back with a loud screech, and sauntered around to his own desk to retrieve his belongings. The other students, bored with the Niwa boy's daily ritual of teasing some boy or girl smaller than himself for his personal enjoyment, ignored him as he walked past, lowering their voices, as apparently they had been speaking about him in hushed tones.

   "…just doesn't know when to stop…"

   "…does this every day…"

   "…hope he's gonna get in trouble soon…"

   Daiichi, though, was an expert at tuning out the words and comments he didn't particularly care to hear, and treated those who spoke them with the disdainful air of an heir prince; they were too far below him to even merit his notice. Rummaging around in his desk, he withdrew a few books and sheaves of paper, sliding them into his pack which hung over his right shoulder. He pushed his chair dutifully under the table and situated his pack into a slightly more comfortable position, setting his face into a determined  frown. 

   She had already left, this he knew; she left promptly three minutes after the final bell tolled every school day, without fail, pausing only to gather her books and bid her few friends farewell for the evening. And she always took the same trolley route home every day, this he also knew. Knew that she bought her tickets a week in advance, every Sunday from the main station at the trolley yard, so she wouldn't have to carry around loose change after school. Knew that the ticket master seemed to be on decent enough terms with her to call her "Kara-chan." Knew many, many more minute details of her every day existence that it seemed he actually _was_ her, and not one who merely watched from afar.

   He did it all for her, you see. Bullied, acted tough, all to seem strong and capable in her eyes. For how could anyone bring themselves to care even slightly for someone _weak_? Not that he was weak, mind you, he was the strongest player on the lacrosse team, thank you very much, and looking to be named MVP later that season, the apple of the sports unit's eye. But she didn't see _that_ Daiichi. She only saw him in class, where it was quite difficult for him to prove himself aside from occasionally picking on Nijimura or Saioko. 

   …Alright, so maybe he picked on them more than occasionally. But his academic skills were nothing to get excited over, his grades hovered somewhere between average and horrendous, and he would often pawn off his cleaning duties to some unsuspecting underclassman. This was the Daiichi she saw.

   But today, today would be different! No longer would she look at him only at his worst points, he would _make_ her see the real Niwa Daiichi! The one who wanted to change—for her. He wanted her to see the Daiichi he was always meant to be: strong, brave, capable. She would _notice_ him, finally. After today.

   Daring a quick glance at his watch as he shot out the school's main double doors, he tore off down the sidewalk at a quick jog. If he'd calculated the times correctly, he had five minutes to beat her to the trolley station some three blocks away. The 4:35 wasn't due until 4:38 actually, another detail he'd picked from watching her so often. It was consistently three minutes behind the posted schedule, and she would wait for it on the bench in front of the nearest platform, a book propped open on her lap, satiny blonde locks cupping her delicate face as she pored over the text. Or so she had been found for the past few months Daiichi had been studying her, learning her schedule.

   Sure enough, as he rounded the final corner and entered the station proper, he could immediately pick her out from the crowd of busy commuters bustling about the plaza, and took a moment to calm himself, straightening his clothes and running a hand through his already-ruffled hair, giving him what he hoped was a rugged, slightly unkempt look, sure to dazzle her. Taking a final deep breath, he approached her at a slow walk, all the while chanting to himself, _'Stay calm, stay calm, whatever you do, stay _calm_.'_

   The sound of his sneakers scraping on the leaf-riddled pavement called her attention to him when he'd gotten within five feet, and she looked up quickly, slightly startled at his approach. She hastily closed the book and pushed it into her bag, scooting to the side a bit, making room for him to join her. "N…Niwa-kun?" she tested, and he took the proffered seat, smiling gratefully. "I didn't know you rode the Number Three home…don't you live on the other side of the hill, on the Number Seven route?"

   "Aah, my mom wanted me to pick up some groceries from the market for her after school," he lied quickly, "I do usually ride the Number Seven home. I didn't know you'd noticed…"

   She smiled, a thin line curving upwards at the edges as if calling even more attention to the bottomless pools of blue that were her eyes, and he blushed slightly before looking away. "A…ano…I was wondering…if I could talk to you for a few minutes…" He dared to look up at her again, and found that by now she'd turned those eyes to the trolley steaming up the hill to pick up passengers. "But—if it's a bad time, if you need to get home, then—"

   "Ah, no, no." She waved off his hurried apology, "It's fine, we can talk—did you want to go somewhere else, Niwa-kun? The station is awfully noisy." He sighed inwardly, completely smitten. Was there no _end_ to her perfection? Smart, pretty, obliging, and polite—how did she manage it all?! He managed a nod and stood up to lead the way. Helping her gather her things, the two descended a short stairway that led to a concrete path winding its way through a lightly wooded area, eventually opening to a fairly large field. Though quite crowded on weekends, the park area was, for the moment, nearly empty, as all the day-workers were wending their ways home for the evening. Daiichi scuffed his the toe of his sneaker lightly across the ground, kicking a few leaves to the side as they walked on in silence.

   "…Hiwatari-san…" Daiichi began hesitantly, and stopped suddenly, the girl mirroring his movements and turning to face him full on, "…Have you ever…wanted something for someone else?" His eyes had dropped to the ground, suddenly finding a discarded candy wrapper quite interesting at the moment. "…I mean…have you ever wanted to _be_ something for someone else…to be better…so that…they'd like you?" His heart was pounding so loudly in his chest he was sure she could hear it, and mentally shouted to himself, once again, to calm down. "That maybe…you could be…for them—"

   "Niwa-kun," she interrupted flatly, no emotion in her voice, and he looked up suddenly into her eyes. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, the fabric of her skirt fluttering slightly in the autumn breeze, yet her eyes were pools of pity. For him. Somehow he knew as soon as she uttered his name, that she wore those eyes for him. "Niwa-kun…" she repeated, "…you shouldn't say anymore…" Her eyes lowered. "…Sometimes, I feel like I want to mean something to someone else…to get them to notice me…but you…" She faltered and shook her head. "Niwa-kun, I'm sorry. You don't need me to be a better person. You need to look for that inside yourself. I can't…I can't enjoy being around the Niwa-kun you are right now. Please…don't ask me to."

   He couldn't breathe, the air simply would _not_ enter his constricted lungs. All over he burned, his skin was scorched underneath his clothes, and tiny knives of white-hot pain pricked his consciousness, slicing him in a thousand ways. _No_…_no_…Hiwatari-san… __

   _ "I can't enjoy being around the Niwa-kun you are right now_._"_

   You…_can't_? I would change, for you, Hiwatari-san. I would be a better Daiichi for you, Hiwatari-san. If you asked me to, I would. Because you are already perfect, and I'm ashamed to stand here, hurting like I do, with you looking at me with those eyes of yours. I don't want your pity, Hiwatari-san…I want…

   "Niwa-kun…could you…could you please take me back to the train station now? I don't want my father to worry if I don't get home on time…" He hadn't even the strength to nod or shake his head, but she reached out to him nonetheless to gain his attention. 

   But when she touched him, it was as if an electric shock closed a circuit, then his whole world tilted violently to the side and Daiichi blacked out for a second—only a second, but long enough to knock him off balance and send his eyes lolling back into his head. "_Ni—Niwa-kun_?!" a frightened voice called to him from afar, and though he wanted desperately to reply, to abate her fears, his throat had closed up. All was dark for a mere moment…then a bright light seared his consciousness, splitting him in two—no, not splitting, _tearing_ him apart at the seams, ripping his very essence in half, leaving behind a screaming, crying shell of a human, crumpled on the ground, helpless to resist what was happening.

   She could only look on in absolute shock as the lanky form of the Niwa Daiichi she'd known for nearly a decade blurred and loomed larger before her very eyes, his russet-colored hair and eyes darkening, deepening to an almost violet hue. He lurched forward onto one knee, clutching his chest with both hands, tears of pain now threatening to spill over onto his cheeks, and was uncomfortably aware of the rising tide of vomit mercilessly burning his throat.

   Then suddenly…just as it had started, the pain simply stopped. No lingering throbbing, no buzzing of the skin's surface to signal it had even been there a moment before. Just stopped, and he felt just like before, could even open his eyes and stare at the ground, could see the shiny black Mary-Janes Hiwatari-san always wore just at the top of his line of sight, and slowly backing away. He wanted to call out to her, to let her know that he was alright, even though he wasn't exactly sure of that himself. 

   Except, he couldn't move his mouth. More importantly, he couldn't move his head, nor his arms, nor his legs; in fact, he found he couldn't control really _any_ of his body at all at the moment, and this, he realized, was very, _very_ wrong. As if of its own accord, his eyes lifted, and though he could feel the muscles tensing and pulling as he pushed himself upward, he knew it was through no conscious movement of his own. His body was …acting as if it wasn't his! He could see his hand steadying himself as he stood upright, could even faintly feel the cool concrete and gravel where it scraped his palm, but it was all as if from far away.

   "…Niwa…kun…?" came the frightened voice of Hiwatari-san, quavering with fear and confusion, and once again he wanted to immediately abate her fears, to assure her he would be fine with a moment's rest. Instead, though, his mouth opened, but what rolled off his tongue was not anything he'd prepared:

   "Well _crap_." It was most _definitely _not his voice. This one was decidedly deeper, and he would certainly never have said anything like that in front of Hiwatari-san—

   _'Hiwatari?'_ the same voice that had just spoken echoed lightly in his mind, with what could only be a tone of mixed interest and confusion, _'Now this makes things interesting_…_'_

   _'Wh—who are you? WHO ARE YOU?!' _Daiichi screamed every obscenity he knew at the stranger who had overtaken his body, pounding at all the mental doors he could reach with invisible hands, _'I can't move! Get out—get out of my mind! Give me back my body!'_

   "Ah, sorry kid—" the invader spoke aloud, jerking the girl watching from her lifeless paralyzed state, and she gasped at the voice, "But right now it's _my_ body, and _you're_ in it." He looked down upon Hiwatari-san. "So…it was this girl, huh?" He took a tentative step forward, which was mirrored on her part as she stepped back, bringing a hand to her mouth, covering it in fear. "…Hiwatari, was it? You don't know how long it's been since I heard that name…" Another step, and again she retreated, maintaining the constant distance between herself and what had, only a moment ago, been a decently well-built boy of fourteen—in fact, it was actually his birthday that very day, though few knew it, and even fewer cared.

   One more step forward was all it took to send the frightened girl turning on her heels and tearing back down the sidewalk, bound for the trolley station, eyes wide and wild. The slapping of her shoes upon the pavement echoed before dying away as she fled, and he simply shrugged and stuffed his hands in the now-too-small pants pockets, and began following the same path the girl had taken. "Saa…"

   This relaxed external image, though, of a tall purple-haired stranger sauntering casually down the sidewalk cleverly masked the inner turmoil of his mind, where a thoroughly confused fourteen-year-old boy was still shouting, _'Give me back my body! Give it back you bast—'_

   "Ahh, now now, no need to use such words." He halted his ambulation, and looked upwards into the brilliant clear blue sky of autumn and closed his eyes, enjoying the simple sensation of the wind blowing tendrils of his hair across his face, entangling strands. But that was precisely the problem—he _shouldn't_ be feeling this. He couldn't remember anything since that time, had no concept of how much time had passed, nor where he was now, nor _when_ he was now, and most importantly, not _who_ he was now—

   _'—and my dad's Niwa Daisuke and when he finds out about this you're gonna be—'_

   Well, that was certainly easy. 

   "Wha—you're Daisuke's kid?"

   Daiichi gave a mental smirk—after all, who was there who _hadn't_ heard of Niwa Daisuke? _'That's right, the most famous painter in the entire region—and he's my dad, and when he hears about this, you'd better be ready to start your groveling, 'cause—'_

   "Thanks—that's all I needed to know kid," and he took off at a run back to the train station. "Actually," he continued as he ran, taking the steps up to the main platform two at a time, "I need you to tell me where you live, too." A few different trolleys were just about to leave, "And I need you to tell me quickly." Passersby eyed the stranger in their midst oddly as he talked to himself.

   _'Wha—you gotta be crazy! No way am I telling you where I live! You get outta my head first! Give me back my body—I'm not telling you where I live__!' A mental silence hung between the two when it became obvious the boy wouldn't budge._

   _'_…_What's your name, kid?' _The voice was somewhat calmer, more conversational and less hurried.__

   From a distant corner of his own mind, curled into a protective ball, Daiichi furrowed his brows, and tentatively replied, _'D-Daiichi. Niwa Daiichi_…_'_

   _'Daiichi, is it, then? Fine, how's this for an introduction: My name is Dark Mousy, and it appears you are my new winghost. Now, if you'd like to change that fact, I suggest you hurry up and tell me where you live so I can find out just what the hell is going on and talk to your father—'_

   _'M—my father? Why him?'_

   _'Just tell me where you live—Daiichi. Where. Is. Daisuke?'_ The urging tone was back, tainting Dark's mental voice, and he stressed the final question. _'If you ever want to get back in your own body, you'll tell me now.'_

   There was another moment's hesitation, and the two watched as the trolleys clanged their respective bells, signaling one minute to their departures down the hill into separate areas of town. _'_…_Take the Number Seven trolley_…_it's three platforms down_…_get off at the second stop_…_'_

* * *

   _knock knock knock_

   "Daiichi-chan?" a muffled female voice called from behind the oaken front door, and the soft padding of footsteps approaching could faintly be heard. Dark stood waiting patiently on the front stoop and lowered his fist back to his side, tensing slightly as the doorknob jiggled, freed from its lock. "Daiichi-chan?" the voice tested, a bit more clearly now as the door swung inwards, opening to let him in, "Home already, sweetie? Why were you knock…ing…" _THUD_.

   Niwa Riku promptly slipped to the floor in a dead faint, eyes rolling back into her head, barely missing getting a cracked skull from the hallway table. From the table in the kitchen, eyes sweeping over the front page of the afternoon edition of a newspaper, Daisuke happened to looked up just in time to spot his wife crumple ungracefully on the floor, nearly causing him to spray his coffee all over the paper, and swiftly tossed it aside as the chair offered an audible objection to being pushed back so quickly in the form of a loud screech. He practically leapt the distance between the kitchen and front hallway in a single bound. Positioned as he had been at the table, he could not see what—or rather, _whom_ Riku had seen at the door, but he could not miss the face staring down at him as he rushed to her side, frantic.

   "…_D—Dark!?_" And indeed, it was as if nothing had changed. "You—b-but—_how_—?"

   As decidedly unnatural a feeling it was seeing his former alter-ego now standing full before him, he could barely manage a complete sentence, so paralyzed was he with shock. The phantom thief stared down at the boy—no, the _man_, now—for a moment, not saying a word, and merely stepped warily over the fallen Riku and sauntered through the hallway, emerging into a spacious living room, though far from extravagantly decorated. Still, it certainly seemed both time and money had been kind to the Niwas.

   Having finally recovered his speech faculties, Daisuke eased his wife into his arms, carrying her to a more comfortable position on a chaise-lounge, and stammered out, "But…if you're here—then who..." His eyes nearly doubled in size as the realization finally hit him with the force of a raging tsunami. "…_Daiichi_…"

   Though the father couldn't hear it, inside Dark's mind his son was veritably jumping for joy. _'Way to go, Dad!'_ But…though his father was, undoubtedly, a genius, how was it that he'd come to the conclusion that his son had been body-napped so quickly? Not that he was complaining—the sooner he got control of his body back the better!—it was just strange, was all.

   _'I'll explain later, kid,'_ Dark returned swiftly, and plopped down into one of the overly cushioned sofas, situated across from Riku, separated by a large glass coffee table.

   Once his unconscious wife was taken care of, Daisuke spat out a swift order for the thief to, "Stay here," and darted up the stairs to some unknown corner of his house. Left speechless by the bold command coming from the lips of one who had, when last they'd met, been so shy and obliging, Dark chose not to disobey, and settled further into the cushions, eyes tightly focused on the slumbering Riku. 

   _'Don't look at my mom like that, pervert.' _Apparently Daiichi was starting to calm down, now comfortable enough with Dark's presence to revert back to ordering him around, and the intruder smiled mentally, a flickering prism of light inside the boy's mind.

   _'I've been called worse than that by greater beings than you, kid. And I'm not looking at her because I'm a pervert.'_

   _'Oh, so you're admitting to being one, that's just not your reasoning right now?'_

   _'Please, don't even try and start in on that one with me, I'm older than your great-grandfather—you think I'm gonna lose on something like that to a fourteen-year-old?'_

   Daiichi blinked, confusion coloring his mind with a thick billowing fog. _'_…_You knew my great-grandfather?'_

   _'Daisuke's grandfather? Of course I did. The way we are right now—that's how he and I were. And me and Daisuke_—_'_

   But Riku chose this propitious moment to stir back to consciousness, cutting off the disturbing mental conversation Daiichi and Dark had been entertaining, and nearly screamed again when the first thing she saw as she opened her eyes was _not_ what she'd been expecting to see at all. A supposedly dead—or at the very least, long disappeared—phantom thief, lounging on her sofa as if he lived there, arms crossed lazily over his chest, smirking at her.

   "_Y_—_you_! What are _you_ doing here?!" He cringed slightly at the piercing tone her voice had taken, faintly reminiscent of Emiko's when she would chastise Daisuke post-assignment for taking some unnecessary risk while on a thieving job.

   Instead of firing back a scathing retort, though, he merely broadened his smirk and replied lazily, feigning a pained expression, "Why, Riku—I-I'm absolutely hurt! You have truly cut me; to think you wouldn't be overjoyed to see me again after all these years…"

   Years, yes, it had to have been years. A grown Daisuke, married to Riku, with a fourteen-year-old son, it must have been some twenty years at least since he'd been sealed—but thinking along that subject did note bode well, and he put aside those thoughts for later, when he would need to start exploring just _why_ he was here. Now. _Alive_.

   And what the hell had happened over in that Hikari line?

   That girl…the Niwa kid had called her "Hiwatari-san"—but could she be _his_? How common a name _was_ Hiwatari? Thinking back, he couldn't quite recall the facial features—he _had_ been a bit preoccupied by all the screaming in his head from Daiichi—and so he couldn't relate her to Satoshi in any way, but still, it was _possible_.

   Man, what a twist of fate. To think, he was back, and it might have been the Hikaris' fault again, when it was they who'd tried to seal him in the first place. How _exceedingly_ ironic—yet somehow no laughter followed from it.

   Riku narrowed her eyes, her insides fuming with pent-up anger. It was like nothing had happened, he was still the grand jerk he'd been all those years ago. But…why was he here now? Why—

   But before she could ponder any deeper, the soft padding sound of footsteps descending the stairway called her attention to her husband's return, and her eyes brightened. His face, however, was a blank slate, and his right hand held something tightly clutched in his fist. Dark leaned forward a bit, regarding Daisuke with wondering eyes, and he uncrossed his arms. His former host said not a word, merely walked silently over and sat beside him on the couch, staring deep into the violet eyes, as if searching for some assurance that yes, this _was_ real, he really _was_ Dark.

   "D-Dai-kun—it's—" she stammered, and he cut her off.

   "I know, Riku-san," he assured her gently, "I know…" But this ended the gentleness, and without further niceties, he gripped the thief's arm by the wrist—not roughly, but in a definite attention-getting manner—and spread out the fingers. Opening his own fist, he deftly slipped a ring over one of the fingers before Dark could object or react to just what was going on. Then, with a soft _poof_, he shrank back to Daiichi's normal size, now sporting a tousled crop of russet-hued hair, with eyes that mirrored the color. He had only the time to blink and comprehend just what had happened before Riku grew misty-eyed at the realization that it was her _son_ who'd been taken over by Dark's persona, and threw herself at her child in a great hug. "_Daiichi-chan_!"

   "…Uh, Riku…I'm still Dark on the inside…" She pulled back abruptly, eyes wide and confused. "I take it you didn't know, then…" Once again, he feigned emotional pain, and sighed, "Rejected again…" 

   His wife's bewilderment and subsequent frantic state was soon abated as Daisuke slipped over to her side and aimed to calm her down, "Shh…don't worry, don't worry. Daiichi is still inside." He cast a questioning glance at his former alter-ego, "Right, Dark?" A silent nod, and Riku looked up, eyes slightly puffy, but hardly crying as of yet. Tentatively she reached out a few trembling fingers across the coffee table, as if testing to see if it was truly her son's body or merely a figment of her imagination. With Daisuke, she'd come to accept that sometimes, the least plausible answer was actually the right one.

   True, she'd found out about her husband's former activities as a phantom thief, though little of his true relationship with Dark had ever really been explained, and even less of the true events of that night twenty years ago, when she'd finally discovered his secret. The most she could discern was that Dark had lived inside of Daisuke, and at times the two…switched places—perhaps that was the best way to put it. But then, Dark had suddenly disappeared, and she's started her relationship with Daisuke unhindered by anymore strange disappearances and such, as Niwa-kun had been wont to do. Though, she would admit, he _had_ seemed quite depressed for months afterwards, but she could never quite bring him to discuss whatever was paining him with her. Whatever the relationship between him and Dark had been, severing it so abruptly had obviously hurt him emotionally—and she would dare say it had nearly killed him. But that was all in the past now, they'd both moved on long since. Why, though, hadn't he ever mentioned this being an _inherited_ thing? This was definitely a topic that should be addressed in discussion _soon_.

* * *

   "I don't mean to sound like I'm not glad to see you…" Daisuke began tentatively, still a bit uncomfortable speaking this way to what appeared to be on all accounts his only son, "But…why are you here, in Daiichi's body? I mean…that time, I thought you were sealed…"

   Dark gave a heavy sigh as the father trailed off into memory, and he leaned far back, sinking into the great cushions, and clasped his hands together behind his head. Daiichi had actually realized by now that he might get more information by staying quiet and _listening_ for once, rather than screaming his head off for an explanation, and was huddled in a corner of his mind, reticent for the moment. The rust-hued eyes Dark held at the moment fell to the floor and his expression darkened slightly as he struggled for an answer to Daisuke's query.

   "Truthfully…" He looked up, and both parents' eyes were tightly focused on him now. "I have absolutely no idea."

   "You—_what_?" came Riku's stammered reply to this revelation. "What do you mean 'you don't _know_'? You—you—you're _Dark_. You've taken over my son's _body_, and you're telling me it all just suddenly happened, that you had no control over it?!"

   "Exactly," was the cold retort, and Dark narrowed his eyes. Sure, Daisuke understood the state of existence the phantom thief was trapped in, but it was blatantly obvious that he'd never talked about this with his wife. And to think he might have actually had feelings for her at some point. He shuddered.

   "Riku-san…" Daisuke interrupted gently, steadying her with his hands on her arms, "It's…complicated." He spared a glance at Dark. "More complicated than I'd thought it would be. Dark—" Now he turned fully to face his son's form, "What exactly happened—what caused this?"

   _'Mmm, he wants me to tell him about your little display in front of that Hiwatari girl, kid_…_'_ he began mentally, smirking lightly inside, _'Apparently you haven't told him yet_…_'_

   _'Y—you're gonna tell him_…_ about Hiwatari-san?!'_ The boy's voice was just slightly frantic now, and the phantom thief laughed an affirmative reply. _'B—but, why?! NO! Don't tell him—that's my dad for crying out loud! You don't talk to your parents about_… _girls_…_'_

   _'Well, sorry—he wants to know why you changed.'_

   _'But, I don't know!'_

   _'Ah, you see, but I do. At least on the most basic level_…_'_

   "Hiwatari," Dark stated simply, aloud, and Daisuke's eyes widened in confusion; leaning forward, he continued in question form, "Did he…have a daughter, by any chance? Say, one around this kid's age?" He was all but drawing a line from Daiichi to Satoshi's daughter, and at the very least pointing from one to the other.

   "Y-yes…" Daisuke muttered blankly through the shock, "Kara…Hiwatari Kara…"

   "Hmm, well, good to see you at least kept in touch with that tightwad." He paused. "It was because of her, then. At least, I assume it was because of her; she _was_ the first thing I saw, not like anyone else could've triggered it." Inside his mind, Daiichi was banging his head against a mental wall, bemoaning the wretched fate that had cursed him with the spirit of a phantom thief who was now spilling all the sordid details of his love life to his _parents_ of all people.

   _'Gimme a break, you're fourteen—you don't even have a love life, let alone one with any sordid details. And from what I saw that girl didn't look like she was exactly planning on tackling you for some mouth to mouth any time soon.'_

   _'Tsk, not now.'_

      Across the table, Daisuke heaved an obvious sigh of relief, earning a confused glance from Riku. Though he would never admit aloud, he had secretly in the furthest corner of his mind harbored a dirty little suspicion that Dark had willingly and with full knowledge of his actions taken over Daiichi's body. And on one level he wouldn't have blamed him—after all, eternally doomed to love but never _be_ loved? It was the most pitiable of all states to live in, never able to get close to anyone, for fear that you'd soon be sealed away once your alter-ego earned love in return. On this level, yes, he understood Dark. But this was his _son_ he was talking about. 

   …If Dark forcibly inhabited his _son's_ body for any selfish purpose…he would never forgive him, and would do everything in his power to oust the phantom thief he'd once battled beside from Daiichi's body. Even if it meant killing him.

   But that was, of course, the dirty little promise he'd made to himself before realizing that even Dark didn't know why this had happened, what had broken the seal that should have erased him from existence altogether. And he believed him, with every fiber of his being. He knew that no matter how much Dark craved a body of his own, he would not resort to stealing the life of another. _Never_.

   Before any more discussion on the subject could be entertained, though, the harsh squealing of tires on pavement, and then the grating crunch of gravel jerked their attentions over to the front door, whereupon they were soon greeted with a rapid series of knocks, frantic in nature. Daisuke heaved himself up off the couch from his wife's side and wandered over to the entryway, pulling the door open and revealing:

   "Hi—Hiwatari-kun?" Indeed, it was the former leader of the police force in charge of capturing Dark, though it had been quite some time since he'd held that position, abdicating after the incident that had sealed away the phantom thief for what should have been eternity.

   He was slightly hunched over, peering up at Daisuke from dark eyes nearly hidden beneath a mop of sweat soaked bangs, and he was steadying himself with one hand on the doorjamb. His glance shifted ever so slowly to focus behind Daisuke into the living room visible behind him, and the sight of Daiichi seated calmly on the sofa nearly stole his breath.

   "Dark…" he hissed through clenched teeth, and tightened his single-handed grip on his chest, as if it pained him greatly to even speak the name. The form he saw before him didn't fool him in the least, and he saw right through the child-like appearance, straight into the heart of the being he'd battled so long ago. 

   Daisuke stepped to the side so as not to block the hallway and beckoned his friend inside, but Satoshi shook his head vehemently, eyes still tightly focused on Dark. "No…no, I can't. I just wanted to make sure Kara wasn't lying, or had been tricked…" Daisuke's eyes narrowed slightly in confusion, and he continued. "Your son transformed in front of my daughter, Niwa."

   Inside Dark's mind, Daiichi was about ready to blow a gasket, practically running around like a chicken with its head cut off. _'Th—This guy's_…_Hiwatari-san's_… _FATHER?!'_ But, how did _he_ know what was going on?! Crap, crap, _crap_—did _everyone_ but he know what was happening to his body right now?!

   Satoshi turned back to the startled father. "Niwa," he began in a grimly serious tone, "This _wasn't_ supposed to happen, ever again. They should have been sealed. _Permanently_."

   From his seat on the far sofa, Dark regarded the hushed conversation his former host and enemy were having, and cocked an eyebrow when he heard Satoshi's final comment. "It's good to see you too, Hikari!" he piped up in Daiichi's voice, and Riku jumped a little at hearing the words from what appeared to be her son's mouth, still unsettled by the thought that it was really _Dark_ inside.

   Satoshi tried, for all it was worth, to ignore the childish remark, but the knife of pain that shot through his chest would not allow him to dismiss the words so quickly. Riku jumped up to help him, but Daisuke motioned her to stay put. Nearly reduced to bending down on all fours to recover, he grunted out through the pain, "Don't…call…me that…_Dark_…"

   Worried eyes darting from Satoshi's pained form to Dark and back, Daisuke cautiously queried, "_'They'_?" No response. "Hiwatari-kun…you don't mean…?" But the huddled form of Satoshi assured him that he most definitely meant what Daisuke feared.

   "I do—and that's why I can't stay he—ere!" He collapsed again, and Daisuke quickly bent low to help him, but was violently brushed away, with Dark looking on curiously from the couch. With some considerable effort, the Hiwatari father heaved himself back to his feet shakily, and pointed a trembling finger at Daiichi's body. "You just keep that boy away from me until this mess is all sorted out." With that he turned on his heel and stormed out of the entryway, slamming the door behind him.

   "…Hiwatari-kun…"

* * *

   The sky outside the Niwa home was beginning to darken in the east, bleeding the sky the same violet hue of Dark's hair, and dotting it with countless thousands of stars which the noontime sun blocked from view. In the living room, the trio—well, _quartet_ really, were still deep in conversation, though by now they'd all run out of ideas on just why this had happened, and had turned their thoughts more towards what exactly they should do in light of the situation.

   "Well, this'll certainly make school a little more difficult for Daiichi…" his father commented, a smile threatening to tug at the corners of his mouth as he recalled just how difficult _his_ schooling had been while Dark's host. "…The poor kid, is he still freaking out?"

   Daiichi's face broke into a small grin, "Not so much anymore—I think he's worn out from all the excitement…" After a moment's pause, he continued, passing on a message, "Well, he claims he's still wide awake, just listening."

   "And well he should, we still have a lot to talk about—"

   "Like how to get Daiichi-chan back, for one thing!" Riku piped up from the side, her first words in a while. Like her son, she too apparently had been keeping quiet for the time being, instead opting to let her husband and Dark converse unhindered. However, her patience had long sine worn thin, and the only thing she truly cared about now was getting her son back. The unease that had settled on her the moment she heard Daiichi speaking with Dark's words now overwhelmed her, and she wanted it righted.

   The father and son stared at each other for a moment, before Dark closed his eyes and leaned back into the sofa as before. "And just how would you propose we do _that_? If it really is as easy a thing to do as you seem to think it is, I'd be _greatly_ interested in your methods…" Daisuke narrowed his eyes slightly in annoyance at the thief.

   Riku sighed, frustrated, "I—I don't care _how_ you do it, I just want my son back. You can… just, go to sleep or do _whatever_ it is you do, and let Daiichi have his body back!"

   He lazily opened a single eye and stared her down, and she felt her face grow warm, unconsciously inching closer to her husband as if asserting the fact that she was no longer up for grabs. A smirk edged over his lips.

   "Well, I'd be only _too_ happy to do that… if you'd care to oblige me with…a kiss." Her facial expression could have melted lead, and he laughed it off. "Hey, hey—you want your kid back, you have to be willing to make a few sacrifices." Daisuke gave a barely audible growl, causing Dark to hold up his hands in defense. "Jeez, fine…alright, then what about your _lovely_ sister?"

   A stark silence descended upon the room as Daisuke and Riku threw each other a nervous glance, brows furrowing in distress. The exchange did not pass unnoticed on the phantom thief's part, whose face took on its own expression of confusion. "…Daisuke?"

   His former winghost leaned forward gravely, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together, staring intently at the floor in his immediate line of vision. "Risa-san…died…fourteen years ago…"

   The boy's eyes widened immeasurably, and his body seemed to shudder momentarily, capturing his parents' worry-laced attentions. "…Dark…?"

   Russet eyes trembling with unshed tears, Daiichi choked out, "M—Mom?"

_fin chapter one_

* * *

_Post-chapter notes_: Quite a long chapter for the first one, but there was so much I wanted to include, I found it difficult to stop until this point. I've got quite a bit planned for this, so I hope you enjoy what's happened so far. As is probably evident by now, this will draw from the anime-side-plot of Daisuke's trip into Towa-chan's world where he met his son from the future, and pretty much just embellish on what Daisuke's future would really be like. How Riku, Risa, and Satoshi all figure into it, what's changed, what's the same, and the whereabouts of our favorite supernatural bishes: Dark and Krad. I can always use ego boosts, so reviews are highly encouraged. Thanks for taking the time to read!—sage

__


	2. Bitter Nostalgia

_Author's Notes_: Ooh, lookie, a new chapter! The more I write this story, the more I personally wanna know what happens. Isn't that a little strange for an authoress? I'm supposed to be the one who actually knows what's going on! Eh, whatever. Chapter two, dead ahead…

* * *

_Chapter Two: Bitter Nostalgia_

   …_Risa-san_…_died_…_fourteen years ago_…

   Say it again. Once more. I don't believe you.

   …_Risa-san_…_died_…_fourteen years ago_…

   "Daiichi-chan!" Niwa Riku captured her son in a great bear-hug and held him close. Though he'd been there in body the whole time, it appeared the shock of hearing Daisuke's words had wrenched control over Daiichi's body from Dark and returned it to Daiichi. Oddly, though, the boy wasn't returning her affections, and she loosened lightly, pulling back to stare at him. "What's…wrong?"

   _Something_ was wrong, that much was apparent; the child's chilled skin was white as a sheet, his pupils tiny dots floating on a sea of white, and he was clutching the sides of his head with his fists as if trying to squeeze the invader out. With a harried gasp he released himself and looked up at his parents, fearful. "…D—dad! It…it hu—rts!" Again he nearly toppled forward, and this time it was Daisuke who rushed to his aid, suddenly comprehending what was going on: it was a mental battle for control over Daiichi's body.

   _'No_…_NO! What happened?!' _Dark's voice screamed in a raging frenzy, rattling the invisible bars of the cage which trapped him inside his winghost's mind. _'TELL ME!' _Daiichi's entire head felt as if it was being slit with a thousand needles from the inside, pounding to be released, and crashes of light exploded in his vision. "St—stop… _please_…Da—_aah_!" the child choked out, voice quavering, as it took all his strength to force the few words over his dry lips; again, he shuddered, crying out in pain.

   "_Dark_!" Daisuke's warning voice slit the air as he clutched his child, engaged in a heated internal battle, to his chest. The phantom thief was—unconsciously?—thrusting against all barriers trying to reinsert himself in control. Had the shock been that much? Could he possibly be unaware of the pain he was causing Daiichi? Whatever his motives, at this rate he would kill the boy—or at the very least drive him mad with pain. He _had_ to calm him down somehow. "Dark! Stop it—_now_! _Dark_! You're hurting him! Get a grip on yourself!" As if heeding his own words, he shifted his grip to the boy's shoulders, shaking him slightly to bring him back to his senses. Riku gasped sharply, but Daisuke ignored her.

   For a moment that seemed to stretch to eternity, no one said anything, as all waited to see the effect the pleas had had on the phantom thief; Daiichi was no longer heaving or screaming in pain, but his eyes were tightly clamped shut, leaking stray tears that glimmered faintly on his cheeks, leaving behind salty trails to his eyes. He was bent over, his chest resting on his shaking legs, and his father laid a hand tentatively on his back.

   "…Dad…" he whispered at length, voice raspy and quavering. "…He wants to know…make it _stop_…"

   Hiwatari-kun…was this what he felt, all those times when Krad had battled _him_ for control over his own body? As he looked down at Daiichi, scared, frail, he couldn't help but flash back to the countless times he'd watched this scene, with the rust-colored hair replaced with ice-blue locks, just as frightened of his own fate, with just as great a thirst for life, for his _own_ body.

   Yes, Daiichi, Hiwatari-kun. Inside, they were both the same. Neither wanted this fate, and before the spirits of Dark and Krad were through with them, they would be irrevocably changed, inside and out.

   Turning to glance over at his wife, he met her gaze of equal concern and acceptance, and she nodded slowly, averting her eyes from her son. After all these years, the pain and memories had faded into the deep dark corners of her mind, corners she didn't often visit for obvious reasons. And now she was about to relive them before a being she would have sooner forgotten than poured her heart out to. Dark would wrench them into the glaring daylight to be searched and surveyed. He would violate her precious memories of Risa, the few happy ones she had left.

   You weren't there with her, you _left_, and good riddance. You don't deserve to see her now.

   _Dark_…_how dare you_…

* * *

_Twenty Years Ago_…

   "Riku! Niwa-kun! Come _on_!" Harada Risa called from the front stoop of the Harada mansion into the main foyer, stamping her foot in irritation. "How long does it take you to carry a few bags of _luggage_ down to the car?!"

   "Most of this stuff is yours, Risa! If you're in such a hurry to leave already, why don't you get up here and help us?" came the angry reply of her twin at the top of the stairway, and she faintly registered the light, embarrassed laughter of Daisuke as he tried to calm her down, saying, "It's OK, it's OK…I'll get Harada-san's things!" Riku merely rolled her eyes in disgust and reminded him not to spoil Risa, and lugged her own bags down the plushly-carpeted staircase.

   Taking a quick glance at the grandfather clock stationed in the hallway, Riku continued on out to the limousine which Tsubouchi, the butler, normally shuttled the twins around town in. Riku had been successfully able to convince their parents—currently in France on business—to allow her to visit a traveling winter carnival a few towns away with Daisuke for the weekend.

   Somewhere along the way, though, "Riku and Daisuke" had turned into "Riku, Daisuke, and Risa," and from there the Niwa boy had insisted it be, "Riku, Daisuke, Risa, and Satoshi," a far cry from the romantic snowy weekend for two it had been planned to be. Winter vacation was already upon them, and this carnival came but once a year—it had seemed to be a perfect chance to spend some quality time with Niwa-kun!

   For Daisuke, though—and partly for Satoshi as well—it was more of the perfect diversion of attention away from the events of barely three months ago. Life in the Niwa household now was starkly contrasted to life before the sealing, more laid back, more… _normal_. And he wouldn't pretend he didn't like this new sense of normalcy, but he also wouldn't lie and say he didn't miss Dark. He could never say that. 

   Hiwatari-kun, it turned out, had recently moved into his city apartment on a permanent basis, having raided his step-father's office thoroughly, leaving nary a breadcrumb behind as evidence anyone had occupied it before, and moving the delicate contents to his own residence. After all, there were still many documents and books relating to the long rivalry between the Niwas and Hikaris which were just better kept out of public sight. Better he should have them than some beggar who happened to be rummaging through his late-stepfather's trash. 

   "Niwa-kun—Hiwatari-kun's gonna be wondering where we are! It's almost three now, and we still have to pick him up." A pause. "You _did_ tell him we were picking him up, didn't you?" A muffled affirmative reply emerged from beneath a mountain of luggage squirming slowly towards the trunk of the car, held up at the door. Riku rushed to relieve Daisuke of a few of the burdens, for which he thanked her profusely. "I don't understand why Risa has to bring so much stuff anyway—we're only staying overnight!"

   Catching the tail end of the conversation, the younger Harada defended herself valiantly: "It's probably gonna be cold there—but you can never tell how quickly the weather changes in the foothills! I brought warm _and_ cold-weather clothes, just to be sure. Didn't _you_, Riku?" Smirking, she continued, "No, you probably just brought something for today and tomorrow, am I right? Well—don't come begging me for anything!"

   "You—I should just take a match to all your luggage right now! I can't believe—" It was here that a flustered Daisuke jumped into the fray and tried to soothe things over between the sisters, reminding them that this wasn't a very good way to start the weekend off, since they'd all be spending a lot of time together.

   Tsubouchi dutifully followed up behind the trio and helped Daisuke load the last of the bags into the trunk before opening the side doors to let them in, and then sliding into the driver's seat and starting the engine. As the car pulled out of the circle, Riku took one final glance up at her home and smiled. It was going to be a _great_ weekend.

   Barely fifteen minutes into the drive, Daisuke instructed the driver to pull off onto a side road jutting off from the main throughway, and the car slowed to a stop in front of a towering apartment complex. Carefully counting up and over, he pointed to an open window, through which they could spot thin curtains swaying to and fro in the slight breeze. Lowering the window, Risa leaned out over the side and called, "Hiwatari-kun! _Hiwatari-kun_!" Yet no figure came to the window in response, and she turned back to her sister and Daisuke. "Well?" 

   Sighing, Daisuke, stepped out of the car and sauntered up to the front steps of the complex, running a finger down a long list, staring at it intently. "Hiwatari… Hiwatari…Hiwa—ah!" He punched the small button next to the name and cast a glance back to the car, then up to the window. Nothing, still. Face wrinkling a bit in confusion, Daisuke was about to turn away, when the speaker to his right crackled to life.

   "Niwa?" Hastily Daisuke scrambled to press the button and respond, but it seemed it was unnecessary, as at this moment Satoshi appeared at the window a few floors up, leaning out and motioning for his attention. "Niwa! The door's open—get up here and help me." With that he slipped back inside, and with a confused glance back at the twins, Daisuke shrugged, twisted the handle, and entered, taking the stairs two at a time as he bounded up to Satoshi's apartment. When he reached the appropriate floor, he eyed the apartment numbers carefully until he found himself standing at his friend's front door, and reached up to knock. This proved unnecessary, though, as the door was suddenly unceremoniously flung open from the inside, and he was beckoned in. "You're late, Niwa."

   Crossing the threshold, Daisuke laughed out an embarrassed apology, chalking their tardiness up to Risa's boatload of luggage that had had to be toted to the car. "Well," Satoshi began, leading the other boy down a hallway into what must have been the master bedchamber, "I hope you've still got room for my stuff."

   Daisuke's jaw dropped open and a tiny whimper pushed over his lips. "Hi—Hiwatari-kun…do you really need…" he whined. Casting his eyes about the room, he could count no less than four suitcases propped open atop the bed and on the floor, all packed full of clothes, toiletries, food items, and various other traveling knick-knacks, awaiting a final check from Satoshi. "…Four suitcases?"

   Genuinely confused, he defended himself in a manner which startlingly reminded Daisuke of Risa's back at the mansion not a half-hour before. "Well, you _did_ say it was at the foothills, didn't you? Aren't you aware of how quickly the weather changes there? What with the cold air blowing down from the mountains and the warm air blowing in from the plains—"

   "Alright, alright!" The last thing he needed was a scientific explanation of just why so many suitcases were necessary. "Let's just get your stuff and leave, Hiwatari-kun… you're starting to pack like Harada-san with all this luggage…"

   "…Wait, which one?"

* * *

   "So, a whole weekend with Niwa-kun…" Risa sighed contentedly as she plopped down on the bed, turning her eyes to her twin who was hanging shirts on coat-hangers and placing them in one of the hotel closets. "Planning anything…special?" Riku paused her unpacking to glare daggers at the younger twin, who giggled girlishly and apologized, "I'm kidding! Only kidding! Niwa-kun's too…nice. Too nice to be any fun, anyway."

   Riku furrowed her brows and turned to put up another shirt. "That's not true—he's just too…sweet to do anything like that."

   "Well, you don't have to defend him to me," she laughed, "I prefer taller, older men. Who cares if they're sweet?" She turned over on her stomach and rested her head on top of her hands, staring at one of the plush pillows. The sun was bleeding the western sky a vibrant neon pink hue, and the evening was swiftly approaching. The four had opted to unpack first—the boys in their own room, the twins in theirs—and reconvene in the lobby in an hour to head out to the carnival.

   "Riku…" Risa began softly, and she heard the rustling of clothes stop suddenly. "Riku…did you ever wonder what happened…to Dark-san?" Turning over, she met the other girl's confused expression, and tried to laugh it off, "I mean, I know you didn't like him and all…but he just left…and I thought it was weird. And Niwa-kun was…different afterwards, so I just wondered if…if you knew anything about it, or if you ever thought about why…"

   Riku's breath lodged in an uncomfortable lump in her throat, and she tried to swallow her words to no avail. She'd never told Risa everything about what had happened those few months ago, particularly the details of Daisuke actually _being_ Dark and all. She couldn't place an exact reasoning behind it, merely that she didn't _want_ to tell. She herself wouldn't even know if it hadn't been for the accident which had forced the boy to transform in order to save her, so was it even her place to tell her sister the truth? If Daisuke ever wanted her to know, he would tell her…or so she convinced herself.

   She probably already knew more than she let on, anyway. _"You sense it too, don't you? That Niwa-kun might be Dark-san?"_ Those words still echoed as loudly as when they'd first been uttered, and it was there that Riku had first begun to question if there was in fact some relationship between the two she hadn't thought of before. It was, in a way, thanks to Risa that she'd finally found out.

   "Risa…" she started, tentatively, stepping on eggshells the whole way, "I…"

   "I know he was Dark-san," she interrupted, now turned over on her back and staring up at the ceiling, deep brown eyes following the slow spiral of the fan turning above them, and Riku bit her lip guiltily. "I think…I figured it out before you, really. When we were in that tower, and I saw Hiwatari-kun change, that time. I think I knew then…but I didn't want it to be true, so I told myself that it couldn't be, and I tried to forget…" 

   She felt the pressure of her sister coming to sit on the bed beside her, and smiled warmly. "They had the same eyes…"

   "I know," Riku agreed, "…I…I'm sorry…that he's gone." 

   Risa pushed herself up on her elbows and cocked her head to peer at her sister, then broke into a warm smile. "…No you're not. You're just saying that for me."

   "Wha—no! I…I mean, well, he wasn't _that_ bad once you—" But any further explanation was stifled as Risa gathered Riku into a hug and buried her head into the crook between her shoulder and neck.

   "…Thank you…onee-sama…"

* * *

   "…I wonder what's taking Riku-san and Harada-san so long…" Daisuke pondered worriedly from a sofa in the lounge near the front entrance to the hotel. Tsubouchi had dropped the quartet off for the weekend, leaving note that he would return Sunday at four to pick them up again and bring them back home. The boys had quickly unpacked and headed down to the lounge to relax for a bit while waiting for the girls. They'd all planned to spend a few hours over at the carnival that night, and all Saturday as well, which would leave Sunday wide open for resting from the hectic weekend. 

   Satoshi sighed and leaned back into his chair, swirling the dregs of his tea around in his mug. "It's still early yet—they'll be down. You worry too much, Niwa."

   "Wha—_I_ worry too much? Did _you_ just say that _I_ worry too much? Are you _really_ Hiwatari-kun?!" Satoshi glared up at him as Daisuke bent over to feel his forehead. "Last I heard I didn't worry _enough_, I believe you said."

   "No no, I never said anything like that. It was more along the lines of you were just too trusting. There's a difference."

   "Not much of one."

   "But there _is_ a difference." Daisuke huffed, conceding defeat to the Hikari boy, who smirked triumphantly and went back to swishing around the remnants of his tea. Having long since finished his own beverage, Daisuke lay down and propped his head against a cushion, staring at the ceiling.

   "Hiwatari-kun…?"

   "Hn?"

   "Do you ever…wonder what happened to them?"

   "Who, the Haradas?" Propping himself up on his elbows, Daisuke glared coldly, eliciting yet another smirk from his friend, who knew perfectly well whom he was talking about. After appearing to ponder his answer for a few moments, he easily retorted, "No. Never."

   "…Never?"

   Satoshi narrowed his eyes and gave him a knowing stare. "Really, Niwa. Why _would_ I ever wonder? You forget, that sealing ritual was much more of a blessing for me than for you. I judge that had we switched places you wouldn't even be _thinking _about asking me this question right now, but rather reveling in the fact that for the first time in your life you are truly free. No step-fathers reminding you of your heritage, no voices in your head reminding you that you are theirs and theirs alone, no faded memories of generations past floating through your mind—memories that aren't even your own." He turned his gaze from the worried Daisuke. "No, Niwa. I don't ever wonder what happened to them. It is enough that they are gone. It should be enough for you too."

   Hesitantly, he nodded his agreement. "Gomen…Hiwatari-kun…"

   Satoshi's expression changed at the penitent attitude the other boy was taking, and he actually seemed slightly remorseful for his blunt comments. "Look, Niwa, let's just…let's just forget this for right now, alright?" He pushed Daisuke up into a sitting position and straightened his clothes. "You can't look all down like that when the twins get down here, or they'll think something's wrong. Do you want to spoil their weekend?" He shook his head and smiled a bit. "There—that's more like you."

   "Niwa-kun!" came a voice calling from the top of the stair, and the two shifted to see the Harada twins descending the staircase, both now dressed in warmer clothes, eager to get out of the hotel. Once they'd reached the landing, Riku continued, "The desk clerk gave me a brochure for the carnival, with a schedule of all the events."

   "Great! Should we go, then?" A nod, and the four hurried out the door to catch the next trolley.

* * *

   The Mid-Winter Carnival appeared to have deserved every bit of praise it received. Riku, Daisuke, Risa, and Satoshi all gaped in wonder at what appeared to be a small village of nothing but rides, games, shows, shops, and anything that might even remotely be associated with "fun". A towering multi-colored Ferris wheel stringed with glittering flashing lights was visible from the entrance, along with a roller coaster and even a big-top tent. The ticket-master smiled warmly at the friends as he took their tickets and ushered them inside, slyly hinting that the Tunnel of Love was located towards the rear of the carnival, and all present blushed a furious red hue and quickly moved on. 

   Once inside the main gates, Riku whipped out the map and began surveying it like an army general, picking out the "must see" spots immediately, mentally setting the next day's schedule as she went over the grid. 

    "The Ferris wheel and roller coaster, of course, and it looks like there's supposed to be some kind of show in the main tent tomorrow. There are tons of little shops all over the park, with games and souvenirs and stuff. We should try and visit them all while we're here."

   Daisuke nodded firmly, then looked up from the map to meet her gaze, a devilish twinkle in his eye. "…Let's go, Riku-san!" With that he snatched up her wrist and jerked her away into the crowd, leaving behind Risa and Satoshi standing in the same spot, frozen with shock, mouths hanging open. "Meet back here at ten o' clock!"

   "Niwa-kun…is certainly aggressive…" Risa observed blankly as she watched her sister's protesting form disappear from sight, swallowed up by the other carnival-goers.

   "…I suppose so…" Satoshi, too, found it difficult to come up with a response to the rather rash action on the redhead's part. It was at this point, though, a moment after their two friends had disappeared, that the two realized they were very much alone, and looked very much like a couple. Instinctively Satoshi put a few feet of distance between himself and Risa, feigning interest in the map Riku had left sitting on the bench. He realized too late that this was undoubtedly some ploy of the elder Harada's or Niwa's—or they could have even both been in on it. He was _so_ going to pay for putting him in this situation when they got back to the hotel.

   "…Well?" Risa's cheery voice interrupted his dark thoughts of how best to kill Daisuke (Drown him in the tub? Too wet. Roast him in the fireplace? Too many witnesses. Suffocation, then? It was always a possibility…). "Are you reading that map or just looking at it?"

   _'Looking at it,'_ was his acrid mental retort, but he stifled it right away and carefully picked up the map from the bench, folding it neatly and moving to place it inside his coat pocket. He turned to face her full, and noted how much she seemed to be the incarnation of "impatience." Her arms were folded stiffly across her chest, with a single booted-foot tapping angrily on the ground, her sighs manifesting themselves as icy puffs. 

   For a moment he considered simply handing her the map instead and finding a nice warm restaurant set up in here and waiting around until it was time for them to all meet up again—then his better sense told him how stupid that would be. The whole reason he'd come up here was to reinsert himself into the real human world—not the nightmare he'd been living most of his life. He would make friends—force himself, if he had to—and be _happy_. Well, the "happy" part was negotiable, but he felt he'd earned a break from brooding. What was the use of finally being free of Krad if he didn't enjoy it at least?

   Straightening up, he adjusted his coat and pulled the zipper up a bit higher to keep the wind out. She cocked an eyebrow up at him as if to say, _"Are you ready yet?"_

   "Here." He shoved the map towards her. "You pick something."

   The same twinkle which had flashed in Daisuke's eye a few moments before now flashed in Risa's, and a sudden sinking feeling clutched his heart: perhaps he shouldn't have given her free reign to drag him wherever she felt like going.

* * *

   "…Fortune telling?"

   Risa narrowed her eyes indignantly. "What's with that tone?" She spread an arm out, encompassing the crowd. "With so many people, it has to be a great show! Do you really think everyone here could be wrong about this? And besides—_you_ certainly weren't tossing out any ideas! Beggars can't be choosers, you know." Snatching his hand in hers, she hastily jerked him forward into the mass of humanity towards the front stage, upon which a tall man with a proportionately tall top-hat was standing, a microphone in one hand.

   "Ladies and gentlemen! We regret to inform you that seats for tonight's final performance of _The Crazy Garu Fortune Extravaganza_ have been sold out. We have no more room for the evening, but please—come back tomorrow morning for another chance to see great feats of magic and fortune telling at their best, right here, under the big top!" The microphone gave a bit of feedback as the announcer hastily returned it to the stand and hurried off the stage, eager to get away before the crowd turned angry.

   "What?! It took us twenty minutes to get over here—you're telling me it's _sold out_?!" Risa moaned to no one, obviously not the sort to take circumstances like this easily. The cloth flaps guarding the entrance were being pulled closed now, and she could see the lights inside the tent dimming, preparing for the final show. "And the brochure made it look so cool too…" Sighing, she turned back to Satoshi, putting her best pout possible on.

   It took him a moment to even realize she'd been staring at him, though when he happened to look down at her he shuddered a bit, face taking on a pink tinge. "Wh—what? Whad'you want?" She raised her eyebrows in a knowing manner and turned to the tent. "Huh?" He followed her gaze around the side of the tent, where faint rays of light could be seen coming from what appeared to be a side entrance. She looked back at him, smiling more widely now, and his eyes widened in realization. "Wha—no! No, I'm not sneaking in with you."

   "You don't have to come! Just help me get in! Come on, Hiwatari-kun!"

   "Why don't you just wait until tomorrow? It's not like this is the only time we're coming, we still have the entire rest of the weekend!"

   "Hiwatari-kun…" she whined, "It's not the same! Just, come on, help me out, this one time! And I promise I won't ask for your help anymore!" He stalled for an excuse, so she leaned in close and dropped her voice. "Jeez, you're worse than Niwa-kun. _He_ at least would've _tried_ to get me in, even if he couldn't do it."

   Twitch.

   "N—_Niwa_? You're comparing me with _Niwa_?!"

   She looked innocent for a moment. "Comparing? Oh no, no, there's no comparing you two. He's just…better. That's all. An all-around superior guy," she finished, matter-of-factly. 

   Twitch.

   He gave a low growl and cast a furtive glance to their sides, alongside the tent, then back to Risa. "There's no way you can think _Niwa_ is better than me. Come on." With that he grabbed her hand and began pulling her to the makeshift alley between the tents, all the while looking around to make sure they weren't spotted. He pressed himself lightly against the tent canvas and made every effort to blend into the shadows cast by the light of the newly risen moon, motioning to Risa to do the same. "That guy couldn't sneak his way out of a paper bag…" Bringing a finger to his lips he signaled silence, and gently pulled back the flap, easing his way inside and holding it open while Risa followed.

   "I thought you were just gonna sneak in—change your mind?" she spoke, her voice at a normal volume now, as the lights around them dimmed. Indeed, she had to speak more loudly or risk not being heard at all over the din of the conversations going on around them among the few hundred other audience members seated under the tent. 

   Satoshi rolled his eyes. "You have to have an explanation for _everything_?" She shook her head and smiled. "Then watch the stupid show I snuck you in here for." The lights blacked out suddenly, and a hush fell across the audience as spotlights flashed on, illuminating the center rings, and for the next half hour Satoshi leaned off to the side, shaking his head at the horribly corny fortune-telling display going on before them—one with which Risa seemed to be enthralled.

   "See? Look, when he picks up the cards—he never looks at them until he's lifted them over his head first. It must be some technique I've never heard of…hmm hmm…" It was yet another excuse for him to roll his eyes, and he yawned loudly.

   Apparently, it was loud enough to catch the attention of a show security official, who had been making his rounds outside of the tent and spotted the shadowy form of Satoshi standing just inside. He poked his head through and parted the seam, calling out in an authoritative voice, "Hey, you two!" Risa and Satoshi turned, momentarily caught off guard. "Let me see your tickets—why aren't you sitting down?" the two turned to each other, slightly worried looks on their faces. "Your tickets, _please_."

   With haste that would have made Daisuke jealous Satoshi shot off under the bleachers before anything else could be said, dragging Risa behind him, and secretly reveling in the chase. Standing there for nearly forty-five minutes, he'd been nearly ready to nod off when the officer had poked his head in. Now, though, this was what he lived for. "Hurry up!" he urged the younger girl, and she stepped up her pace, keeping right on his heels as the two jumped over stray pipes and bits of trash littering the ground beneath the bleachers. Behind them, the single security officer had now multiplied into four. 

   Satoshi spotted another rip in the tent fabric, just wide enough for him and Risa to squeeze through, and directed her towards it. Once they were both through, he took a moment to judge his surroundings. "Here!" he hissed, and the two ducked into the dark shadow cast by a trailer, curling into small balls to hide themselves. One, two, three… finally all four officers had passed them by, hurrying off past where they were hidden, which he took as the cue for them to double back in the opposite direction now.

   "There! The Ferris wheel!" They darted back through the crowd and stood in line for the ride, only a few people from the front, and within a few moments they were seated safely inside one of the chambers, on their way to the top.

   "Hiwatari-kun…that was great!" she praised after catching her breath, and he found he couldn't help the faint blush which crept up over his pale cheeks as she stared at him in awe. "Where on earth did you learn how to _do _all that?"

   "All what? Dodging those guys?" She nodded. "That's just basic police academy training—what else would you expect from the former Chief Commander?" She blinked, then smiled, embarrassed. 

   "Ah, I…forgot about that." Pressing her face to the cold glass, she surveyed the vast sea of multi-colored flickering lights below them. "I wonder what Niwa-kun and Riku are doing…"

* * *

   "Whew…feels like we've been walking forever…" Riku breathed as the duo wandered past another row of vendors, toting the evening's souvenirs in heavy paper bags. At the previous kiosk, Daisuke had spent nearly half an hour sifting through bins and bins of art supplies, eventually winding up buying only a few paintbrushes and some charcoal pencils. Riku, on the other hand, felt she'd done well when she'd stopped by a flower vendor. Who would've thought he'd have one strawberry plant available among his wares? When Daisuke asked why she'd bought it, she playfully replied, "For your rabbit—With, wasn't it? Didn't you say he liked strawberries?"

   In the more than an hour and a forty-five minutes that had passed since the four had split into pairs, Riku and Daisuke had explored many more of the booths along the eastern edge of the park, steadily working their way towards the back center section, where many of the rides were located. 

   Figuring they still had another hour to kill before meeting back up with Risa and Satoshi, Daisuke suggested they find a nice quiet ride to get on and relax for a few. With their luck, though, the first ride they set eyes on was—of course—the famed Tunnel of Love. Casting dubious glances at one another and struggling to keep blushes from taking over their entire faces, Daisuke admitted, "Well…it _is_ quiet…"

   Riku had to agree with him. "And slow…" she added. Oh, sitting was sounding better and better the more she considered it. "And if it's just…you know, to take a break…"

   "Ah—right!" he agreed far too quickly, laughing embarrassedly. Apparently the matter was decided, and they hastily pushed a few tickets into the ticket-taker's outstretched hands, boarding one of the oversized swans while casting furtive looks over their shoulders, just to be sure no one was watching. "I feel like a criminal…" Daisuke moaned.

   Once they were on their way inside, nearly lulled to sleep by the soothing romantic tunes pumped over the airwaves from a few strategically placed loudspeakers, Riku took the chance to confront Daisuke as she'd been trying to for a while. 

   "…Niwa-kun?" she began, averting her eyes for the moment, and he turned to face her, eyes curious. "Are you…alright?"

   His brows furrowed, and he chuckled back, "Of course, Riku-san—why wouldn't I be?"

   She just shook her head, "No, no…" She scooted nearer to him on the bench and looked him full in the face, deep brown eyes obviously masking the worry her heart held. "Are you _really_ alright?" She laid a trembling hand on his arm. "Niwa-kun…you know what I mean…"

   Indeed, he _did_ know what she meant, and the sudden realization made him turn away his eyes in reluctance to answer. He pondered for a moment: _was_ he okay now? 

   "…I won't pretend I understand what happened between you and…and Dark…because I _don't_ understand what it was like…but I want to…so will you tell me—some day?"

    Slowly a warm smile crept across his features. "As long as Riku-san is here…then I'm fine." He nodded, as if to reinforce the statement. "I'm alright now. You don't have to worry about me—and I'll tell you one day, if you want," he finished on a softer note. Sighing contentedly, she leaned over and laid her head on his shoulder.

   And for the first time in a long time, he wasn't afraid of transforming.

   The next few minutes passed in blissful silence as the two simply listened and rested, aware of the other's comforting presence, until finally the bright artificial light ahead made it known that the ride was almost over. The white swan cart slowed to a halt, and Daisuke played the gentleman and helped her back up onto the platform. Picking up their bags again, they were about to wander off to some other area of the carnival, when a look of recollection flashed across the elder twin's face. "Ah! Right!" she exclaimed, then turned to Daisuke and leaned forward, landing a light kiss square on his right cheek.

   "R—Riku-san!" he exclaimed in a combined tone of embarrassment and confusion, his facial hue mirroring the ripening strawberries on Riku's plant, and looked to her for an explanation; she merely giggled playfully.

   "Well, it _was_ the Tunnel of Love! I thought a kiss was well merited!"

* * *

   "Risa—I'm gonna take a bath now, alright?" Riku called, poking her head out the bathroom door, addressing the figure seated on the bed which was poring over a book. Risa nodded, not looking up, and her sister retreated into the bathroom to take a nice long bubble bath. After ten minutes of sitting through a few horribly off-tune strains of a childhood melody which Riku thought was perfect bath-time singing fodder, Risa slammed the book shut, frustrated, and decided she'd try some of the tea from the downstairs restaurant.

   She generously tipped the cashier for the beverage and wandered into the main entryway, headed for the lounge. The evening at the carnival—following the escapade which resulted in her and Hiwatari-kun nearly being arrested for sneaking into the show—had been quite enjoyable. Riku and Daisuke had obviously had a profitable evening, judging from their bags, and she wouldn't say the time spent with Satoshi had been a complete drag, but had actually been pretty fun. There were certainly sides to that boy she'd never noticed before!

   Blowing across the surface of the steaming drink to cool it off, it was only until she was nearly into the lounge proper that she noticed a lone figure seated on one of the couches, staring deep into the flames which danced upon the hearth before them. She hesitated a moment, then without a word she took a seat caddy-corner from him, so that she too might look at the fire.

   "It's beautiful, isn't it? The fire…" Satoshi, apparently, hadn't even registered her arrival, for he looked up suddenly, startled, when she spoke. "An amazing element…it feels like it's not made of anything but heat and light, the way it moves and dances, never in the same place twice. So…so…" She closed her eyes and searched her mind for an appropriate adjective, "Evanescent. Yes, so temporal… But without it there wouldn't be any permanence, see? No life, no warmth, no humanity. Without the fire, we'd all still be sitting around in cold dark huts, regretting our own existence. And even if it hurts us, if it burns us, even if it kills us, we'll always come back to it, because it is our warmth…" 

   She paused here and looked up from the hypnotic flames, suddenly noticing that he'd been staring at her the whole time, with a look of utter speechlessness plastered on his face. She laughed an embarrassed apology, "Ah—s-sorry! I…I guess I was rambling there, I got carried away. Riku says I can get too philosophical sometimes, so I try not to do it at school…I've probably bored you…"

   "N-no!" Satoshi interrupted, breathless. "No—it was…very enjoyable, actually. I've never heard something as simple as fire explained quite like that…"

   She smiled, somewhat relieved. "I tend to…babble a bit when I talk about things I'm passionate about…and fire—well, fire _is_ passion, you know?" Satoshi's eyes turned downward. "…What about you, Hiwatari-kun? Don't you have anything you're passionate about?"

   Keeping his eyes averted, he paused in thought for a moment, then replied slowly with conviction, "My…freedom. Life. _Mine_…I guess those are things I'm passionate about, you could say." Eschewing a verbal response, she merely nodded and scooted a bit closer to the fire. She held her arms full out in front of her, and here Satoshi noticed that though it was chilly in the lounge area, she wore only a thin short-sleeved shirt. Tiny raised goosebumps began to populate the surface of her smooth skin. 

   He pursed his lips into a thin line, adopting the manner of an adult chiding a small child. With a half-annoyed/half-embarrassed expression, he removed the thin jacket he'd been wearing, folded it up, and shoved it towards Risa. Caught off guard, she stared down at it blankly for a moment, blinking stupidly.

   Then, "Ah—oh, no! No, really, it's alright, I'm fine!" He cocked his head with a knowing look and gestured towards her arms.

   "Your mouth doesn't quite agree with your skin—just take it, I only had it on because I was walking outside a few minutes ago." Blushing, she hesitantly took the proffered coat and prepared to draw it over her shoulders—though she wouldn't admit it, she _was_ a bit chilly. 

   As she pulled it on, though, her fingers brushed lightly over the back of it, and she started. "Ara?" Turning the material over to view it more quickly, she ran a hand over what appeared to be two hole torn through the coat's backing, carefully stitched over, yet already ripping from the lack of care and attention paid to the repaired spots. At her small exclamation, Satoshi looked up and followed her eyes to what had caught her attentions, then gasped sharply, unable to mask it. 

   The quick intake of air called Risa back to him, and she looked up—he could practically read the thoughts coursing through her mind, and not one of them was good. Once again he looked away, hoping that perhaps she'd take the hint and not say anything.

   No such luck.

   She delicately fingered the stray threads for another moment, brows furrowing, before she spoke again. "Did it hurt…when he came out?"

   Satoshi didn't say anything at first, but stood abruptly in his place, with his hands fisted at his sides, shaking with unexpressed rage and frustration. "…_Every time_," he managed to speak, voice quavering, then turned away and darted out the front doors into the snow, leaving Risa behind, calling him back.

   She chased him out over the hotel grounds into a field on the western edge of the hotel's plot of land, which was covered in snowdrifts. Fifty yards in she began to tire, could feel the cold air burning her oxygen-deprived lungs, and was on the verge of fainting from the exertion when he suddenly stopped in front of her—perhaps weary as well. He would not turn and face her, but merely stood in place, ice-blue head bowed into his chest, body taut as a bowstring ready to shoot off again. "Hiwa…Hiwatari-kun…" she gasped out between breaths as she struggled to pull more oxygen into her lungs, but got no response—rather, he seemed to actually tighten up more. "…I'm…I'm sorr—"

   "_NO_!" he shouted violently, and whipped his head around, eyes wide and shaking with anger, a far cry from the gentle ones he'd had a mere moment before when they'd been seated before the fire. "No—don't you _ever_ say that about this. _Ever_." He clenched a single fist to his chest. "I don't want your _pity_, I don't want your _'I'm sorry'_s, and I don't want your sympathy! Because you absolutely _cannot_ sympathize with me! If I ever want someone to feel sorry for me, I'll call up Niwa—at least _he_ understands what it's like. But _not_ you. _Never_ you." He was breathing harder now, and without warning he sank down onto one know and pounded the stubbly snow-covered ground angrily. Risa could do nothing but look on in awkward, shocked silence.

   "That fire of yours, back there, Harada…I'm completely different from it. _Completely_." He looked up at her again, eyes now a bit less wild and dancing than before, and began to speak more softly. "Do you know…my real name, Harada?" Her brows knit together in confusion, and she began to say, "Hiwatari," but he stopped her with a held-up hand before she was half-way through the name and shook his head, a wry smile inching over his lips as he shook his head.

   "No, that's just the name my adoptive father gave me—it's not my real name. I was born Hikari Satoshi, newest addition to a great family of artists…and heir to its fate. You said that fire was warm, inviting…_alive_. But I…I am nothing more than a cold ice hunter, forever seeking the deep frigid darkness where the light can't get to me. I swore upon my life to kill the fire before it killed me…I failed…" He shoved his hands into his pockets, "How much more different can two things be?" Finding she had no response to his question, Risa lowered her head submissively.

   Turning, he began to walk back towards the hotel, and a light flurry began to drift down silently from the dark heavens. "W—wait!" He didn't stop. "Hiwata—Hika—Satoshi…kun…" She struggled momentarily with his name, and he actually _did_ stop at this, but still refused to face her; sighing, she gathered her strength to speak, fearing she wouldn't be able to get him to listen to her again.

   "…You should just be yourself, see? Whoever you are, that's _who_ you are, and you shouldn't try and be anyone different, because you _can't_. Even if you hate who you are, _what_ you are, it's stupid to try and change your fate, because it isn't natural to go against it, if it's fire, ice, or anything. Hiwatari-kun _is_ Hikari-kun, and…I may not understand you…but I will, at least, try…if you let me." 

   His breath caught in his throat, and he turned to peer at her from the corner of one eye. Her cheeks flushed prettily with a rosy red color, stained by the biting cold December air, and her long brown hair was blowing about in the stinging wind like a single sheet of chocolate silk. Returning his gaze to the ground, he waited a moment after her speech was done, then suggested they return, waiting for her to walk ahead of him into the hotel.

   _"Hiwatari-kun is Hikari-kun, and…I may not understand you…but I will, at least, try…if you let me." _

   Moments later they passed through the revolving doors into the warm entryway of the main-foyer, the check-in area, and trudged silently to the stairway which Risa had to ascend in order to reach her room—Riku was no doubt fuming silently wondering just where her twin had run off to. Pausing at the foot of the steps, she removed the jacket from her shoulders and shook off the bit of snow which had accumulated on it while the two were outside, then hesitantly handed it back to him, rushing out a quiet, "Th—thank you…Satoshi-kun…" Bringing her right foot up to the second step, she began to climb, when he suddenly reached out a hand and grabbed her wrist, holding her in place, and she gave a slight startled gasp.

   His mind was a chaotic mess, impossible to sort out, with wild thoughts running to and fro, all over. This feeling…when she spoke his name with that voice…was this was _Niwa_ felt, when he changed? He knew from his studies that it was this Harada which had started it all, had been the catalyst from the very beginning, and knew also that it had shifted to the other one near the end—but the feeling itself would have stayed the same, no matter who triggered it.

   For Satoshi, though, the change was…different—to say the least. _His_ was always spurred on by some sharp outcropping of anger or a violent tendency on his mental landscape, followed by the acidic flood of fury, a thirst for the death of the Niwa line which had been ingrained in his mind from the moment he was old enough to comprehend "death"—which was very young, indeed, in the Hikari household. In his blood ran the desire to right what was wronged, to blot from existence that which should never have been given life in the first place: _Dark_. _That_ was what he felt, every time Krad knocked on the door to his mind; hate, anger, fear, a yearning for justice, for retribution. It was the Niwas' fault, make the Niwas pay.

   But Daisuke…no, he never felt anything like that when he changed, did he? Instead, his "curse" hardly deserved that categorization, as it was triggered by _love_. He felt only the soft pitter-patter jump his heart would take when Risa looked his way, or when Riku smiled at him—_that_ was his trigger, _his_ fate.

   So…what was this he was feeling? His chest constricted, but it was…not an unpleasant feeling. He would admit it had certainly caught him off guard, though, and was not all that comfortable with that. Looking into her eyes now, though, he was relieved: no longer were they tainted with the fear and confusion from the field.

   "Risa…thank you…"

   Truthfully, it was more of a statement of realization than of actual gratitude, as if he suddenly comprehended that he actually had something to be thankful _for_. Risa blinked for a moment, then opened her mouth to respond, when the very last thing she would expect to happen _did_.

   Satoshi cut her off, leaned forward quickly, and captured her mouth in a kiss—a very soft, very slow kiss, but definitely a kiss. Without even the courage to make a squeak or ponder his reasoning, she plunged herself into darkness and closed her eyes, surrendering to the confusion. Yet through it all, she found herself able to note tiny details—ones she wouldn't later be able to recall, though: how cold his lips from being outside were upon hers, but how warm it made her feel inside; how she'd never been this close to anyone but Dark before, and how stark a contrast he and Satoshi were; how he was the last person she would have thought would try this, yet how little she cared—it was enough that it was happening.

   The two held their awkward posture on the staircase for a moment before slowly parting, then both lit up like stop-lights upon realizing the position they were in, and what had just happened between them. Stuttering out a hurried, "G-good night!" Risa darted up the remaining stairs into her room. Satoshi watched her leave, stalled in the same position with shock, before regaining his senses and stuffing his hands into his pockets, ambling back to his own room with Daisuke.

   _"_…_but I will, at least, try_…_if you let me."_

_fin chapter two_

* * *

_Post-chapter Notes_: Well, the flashback scene was too long to fit into one chapter, so don't worry, this is far from the end of the "Twenty Years" bit. Also, regarding the Satoshi/Risa parts: This isn't me going, "Aah! I love this pairing!" or anything really, it's mostly just for the purpose of the fic. If you like that pairing, then I hope you enjoy the romance! If not, well, then, just bear with me, it'll be over soon ^_^. Once again, thanks to everyone who's been reading so far, and don't worry—there's more to come!—sage


	3. So It Goes Like It Goes

_Author's Notes_: Another chapter, up for your viewing pleasure. Mostly a continuation of the twenty years' flashback, but this one will skip forward between scenes much more than in chapter two, as it will contain most of the flashback (but not all). Whoo boy, this is quite a long one, hope you'll forgive me! Many thanks go out to you reviewers!

On a side note, _WARNING_: This chapter will contain more parallel scenes than two lines with the same slope and different y-intercepts.

Umm, just ignore that. Really, it was a random attack of math.

* * *

_Chapter Three: So It Goes Like It Goes_

   Harada Risa set her mouth into a determined frown, drew in a final deep breath in a futile effort to calm her nerves, closed her eyes, and raised a single fist to knock on the door. But—why? Why was she so nervous? This was just Niwa-kun! She was standing in front of Niwa-kun's house, one of her closest friends, a second-year in high school, just like herself. She'd known him for years!

   So…why was she so nervous right now? No, it wasn't because it was Niwa-kun really. She'd be this nervous before anyone…with the agenda she had in mind. As if from far away she directed her hand to rap sharply on the oaken front door as she stood on the stoop, letting the cool October breeze play through her hair. Inside she could hear light footsteps padding towards the door, and if she made an effort, she could even visualize Niwa-kun in sock-feet making his way to let their visitor in, pondering who might be behind the door.

   "…Harada-san?" he spoke softly as he pulled open the door, and she smiled warmly at him. He casually cast his eyes to either side of her, as if automatically searching out her sister, only to realize she was very much alone today. "What brings you over this way?" Opening the door a bit wider, he beckoned her inside towards the living room.

   Halfway down the main entry-hall, though, she stopped suddenly and turned to face Daisuke, who was walking behind her, catching him slightly off guard. "…eh, Ha—Harada-san?"

   "Niwa-kun…" She leaned in closer, and the years that had passed since he'd given up his crush on the younger twin could not prevent the slight pink tinge that crept across the bridge of his nose and over his cheeks. "…Can we talk?" Her brows were slightly furrowed, and her air of seriousness quickly dispelled any embarrassed feelings Daisuke may have had as to their position.

   Straightening up, he cleared his throat slightly, and she pulled back to give him room. "You just want…to talk?" She nodded firmly. "Well, my mom and dad are out at the movies right now…and Jii-chan is at the market with Towa-chan…so I guess we could talk in the living room." Another nod, and she followed him the remaining few feet into the den, where they took seats on the perpendicular couches. 

   It was obvious Risa would be the one to start the conversation, so Daisuke simply sat back and settled in, waiting for her to gather her thoughts. After a moment, she opened her mouth slowly and spoke in a very small voice.

   "Niwa-kun…could you tell me everything you know…about the white Dark-san?"

* * *

   Harada Riku set her mouth into a determined frown, drew in a final deep breath in a futile effort to calm her nerves, closed her eyes, and raised a single finger to push the announcing button. But—why? Why was she so nervous? This was just Hiwatari-kun! She was standing on the front stoop of Hiwatari-kun's apartment complex, one of her closest friends, a second-year in high school, just like herself. She'd known him for years!

   So…why was she so nervous right now? No, it wasn't because it was Hiwatari-kun really. She'd be this nervous before anyone…with the agenda she had in mind. As if from far away she directed her finger to brush over the button beside his name as she stood on the stoop, letting the cool October breeze play through her hair. During the pause before he answered, she could even visualize Hiwatari-kun in sock-feet making his way to the window to peer out, pondering who might be summoning him.

   "…Harada?" he called down as he leaned over the sill, and she smiled warmly up at him. He casually cast his eyes to either side of her, as if automatically searching out her sister, only to realize she was very much alone today. "What brings you over this way?" Not waiting for her reply, he hurried down the stairs and let her in, beckoning her up to his own room. 

   As they passed over the threshold of his apartment, he turned back to look at her, and she suddenly stopped, bringing her eyes up to his. "Hiwatari-kun…"

   "Hn?"

   "…Can we talk?" He straightened up and peered at her strangely, as if searching out her true motives, but could find no ulterior plot evident in her features.

   Cocking his head, he queried, "You just want…to talk?" She nodded slowly, and he turned back forward and began to walk again, leading her further into the dwelling. "Fine—how's the living room?" Across the central coffee table were spread books of varying shapes and sizes, with mountains of paperwork on either side, peppered with multi-colored highlighted sections. "Hope you don't mind the mess—Sociology is not treating me kindly this semester." 

   She shook her head and waved him off, opting to take her seat on the loveseat while he sank into an armchair across from her, folding his hands over his lap patiently. It was obvious Riku would be the one to start the conversation, so Satoshi set his glasses gently down on the table and simply sat back and settled in, waiting for her to gather her thoughts. After a moment, she opened her mouth slowly and spoke in a very small voice.

   "Hiwatari-kun…could tell me everything you know…about Dark?"

* * *

   Daisuke shot straight up in his seat, no longer casually slumped backwards, with his head resting on the sofa cushions. He was most definitely caught off guard by Risa's sudden request, and his surprise was all too evident in his face, which had taken on a sickly ashen-gray hue, while his stomach was churning uncomfortably.

   For nearly three years…he hadn't heard mention of that name for nearly three years. Why…why did Harada-san have to bring it up now—why would she want to know…?

   At his obvious internal struggle for reasoning, Risa hastily made an effort to explain herself. "If—if you don't want to, you don't have to, Niwa-kun!" she forced out quickly, for the last thing she wanted to do was drag information from him which he felt she didn't need to hear, "I just…" Her voice sank back into the serious lull it had had when he met her at the door, "It was for Satoshi-kun…" 

   She looked up and met his confused gaze and smiled sadly. "I wanted to understand him better, see? Because…because right now you're all he has to talk to, and I can't stand to see him like that. All this time, it's always been you he turned to—I've always noticed it, even when you thought I didn't. And even now, he's different than he used to be, back in junior high. He's _better_ now, happier, I think. But every now and then I look into his eyes, and I see the old Satoshi-kun looking back, and I…I can't understand why." With a pleading air, she continued, "What _happened_ back then?"

   Here she turned her eyes away, as if a bit embarrassed. "I know…it had something to do with the white Dark-san, because I know Satoshi-kun _was_ the white Dark-san, and I thought…maybe…since, well…" A pause as she gathered her thoughts, and Daisuke leaned forward to catch her final words. "I thought…since Niwa-kun was Dark-san…you'd know why." The last statement was spoken in the tiniest of voices, and he couldn't help but realize how very meek and reserved she seemed at that point.

   After a moment during which neither said anything, Daisuke spoke. "…You know, it's been almost three years…since someone mentioned him?" She looked up, a bit surprised, and he smiled, then nodded slowly, sighing, "Alright, Harada-san. I'll tell you, for Hiwatari-kun." Twisting around into a more comfortable position where he could face her properly, he sat up straighter and asked, "But first, tell me how much you _do_ know, since apparently you're not completely in the dark, so to speak." Her face broke into a relieved smile and she fell into an explanation.

   "I know that…Hiwatari isn't his real name, that it was Hikari—"

   "Eh?" Daisuke interrupted momentarily, "But—how did you…?" Some things regarding Dark and Krad could be guessed, particularly the part about Satoshi _being_ Krad, but the fact that Hiwatari wasn't his given name was certainly _not_ something to be supposed.

   "Satoshi-kun told me…on our first trip down to the Mid Winter Carnival." Daisuke turned away and contemplated this for a moment while she continued. "I know that he was the white Dark-san, because I saw him change, when Riku and I were looking…for you…but…"

   "…But, what?"

   She shook her head, confused. "It was like he wasn't the same Satoshi-kun when he looked like the white Dark-san—"

   "Krad," he corrected gently, and she looked up, brows furrowed. "That was the white Dark's name: Krad."

   Hesitantly she continued after processing the new information. "When he looked like the wh—like Krad…it was like he didn't even know us any more…like he didn't care about either me or Riku, whether we lived or died…" Her voice quavered slightly with worry.

   "That's because," he spoke, voice softly reassuring, "He _wasn't_ Hiwatari-kun anymore when he changed. Hiwatari-kun was Hiwatari-kun always; he and Krad were completely different beings, linked only in the respect that they shared a body. And—it was the same with me and Dark. You said you thought I could explain about Krad because I was Dark, but I'm _not_, you see? I never was; I was just…his host. I was me, Dark was Dark…but he's gone now…" Leaning forward, he rested his elbows comfortably on his knees and easily sank into the lecture his own mother had given him those years ago.

   "For centuries the Niwa and Hikari families have been at odds with each other, eternal rivals. The Hikaris were great artists: painters, sculptors, writers—if it could be considered an art form, then the Hikaris had mastered it. But if they were great artists, then the Niwas were great thieves, and it seemed their sole reason for existing was to steal each and every last bit of Hikari artwork—but not just to _steal_ it, to save it. The artworks had magic of their own, laced in their very frameworks, endowed by the Hikaris. But it was allowed to get out of hand, and so the Niwas took it upon themselves as their duty to take the artworks and exorcise the magic from them.

   "Dark…Krad…they were magic made flesh, solid incarnations of the rivalry between the houses," he continued, hastily glazing over the story of the Koku-Yoku incident. "All those centuries ago, they were art given life by the Hikaris, and somehow inextricably tied to the family lines. Dark to the Niwas, Krad to the Hikaris, destined to fates of eternal bondage to a fourteen-year-old male."

   "A fourteen-year-old…male?"

   He nodded, then blushed a bit—from here on out it was going to get a bit more embarrassing. "Ano…you see, when a Niwa or Hikari male turns fourteen, see…" He scratched his chin in thought, a blush darkening over his pale cheeks, "Well…umm…" Smiling, he continued slowly, "Like, with me…do you remember…when I almost gave you…that letter…the day Dark showed up again…?" Throughout the entire last sentence, his voice began to drop softer and softer, until Risa had to lean forward and strain to catch the final words

   "…I think so," she pondered, searching her memory for that day from years past. "There was a big commotion on the news about it, because he hadn't been seen for forty years…" She blinked stupidly at Daisuke, then tested, "…You're…you're not forty…are you, Niwa-kun?"

   He laughed nervously and waved her off, "No—no! Of course not!" She released the nervous breath she'd been holding and blushed slightly. "…Rather…Dark only shows up when the host turns fourteen…but, you see…something has to…t-trigger him…" Again he slipped into a fit of mumbling.

   "'Trigger'?" she repeated, and he nodded.

   "E-eto…in the case of Dark…I had to be feeling…strong emotions regarding…l-love…" He could all but feel the steam starting to pour from his ears. Sure, he didn't like Harada-san _that_ way anymore—Riku-san had long since replaced her as his "divine maiden", but that didn't make telling her something like this any easier! To admit that his crush on her had been so great at one point that it had triggered the emergence of a centuries old phantom thief…this was just not a topic for normal conversation.

   "Oh," she noted matter-of-factly. He stared at her a moment, disbelieving how easily she was taking it, when it suddenly hit her—apparently she hadn't fully comprehended what he'd been hinting at. "…_OH_. But, you—mean—about _me_?!" He turned his eyes to the floor and nodded meekly, skin tone nearly perfectly matching his hair color until it seemed his whole head was one large spiky tomato. Risa continued, equally confused and embarrassed, "Then, every time Dark-san appeared, it was because you felt…?" Another nod. "O—oh…" Only a well-focused onlooker could have caught the nervous quaver in her voice, though, as she phrased her next question in an effort to steer clear of the topic of Dark. "And…what about Krad?"

* * *

   "…So that's why you came, was it?" he spoke at length in his silvery tongue, a wry, almost-nostalgic, smile creeping over his lips. "Not just because I was the police commander in charge of capturing Dark…but because…of Krad."

   "Kr—ad?"

   Satoshi nodded solemnly and turned his eyes to the floor. Risa had told him some time back that she'd seen him change before—that she _and_ Riku had seen it. But neither one of them really _knew_ what Krad was. To those girls, he was simply—as Risa put it—"the white Dark-san". 

   "…That time, I remember, something…with you…with Harada, and a great tower…a painting…Dark, Niwa, Krad…" He looked directly into her eyes with furrowed brows. "Yes…I remember _that_ time. You risked your life to save your sister then."

   "My…my life?"

   He snorted derisively, but not directly at her—more at her naïveté. "Krad…he wouldn't have wasted a second thought debating whether or not to kill you; if you or Harada were in his way you were as good as dead… It took everything I had to keep control over him, and even then I failed many times," he finished sourly.

   "He was…to you…what Dark was to Niwa-kun?" He nodded, confirming her suspicion. "I remember that now… We were trying to find Niwa-kun, and we followed Dark to a tower…an old, crumbling, rotting tower…and we saw you, inside…but…"

   "But it wasn't me you saw, it was _Krad_, am I right?" She nodded solemnly. "Even with his interference, though, in the end no one was hurt—physically, and Niwa came back," he stated simply, "I did have _some_ modicum of control on when and for how long he could use my body—or rather, how long my body could _survive_ while he was in control of it. A dead body, after all, was no use to him." Riku balked a bit at the almost cheery way Hiwatari-kun was speaking of suicide.

   "… 'Did'… 'had'… 'was'…are you speaking in the past tense…because he's not here anymore?"

   He threw her a glare and resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. "Do you honestly think I'd be sitting here telling you all this if he was still inside me? I thought you said you'd noticed a change in Niwa around the time Dark disappeared—and I've already explained how we were connected." Riku blushed lightly in embarrassment.

* * *

   "Then…where are they now…?" Ah, the penultimate question, one in which was wrapped the heart of the discussion, the very core reason she'd come seeking answers in the first place.

   Daisuke's normally cheery, bright-eyed mask fell for a moment, and Risa caught the barest glimpse of a boy matured in mind well beyond the seventeen years he'd been alive. This face, it embodied painful memories she couldn't even fathom, bonds she couldn't grasp, tears she couldn't shed. He quietly drew his knees up to his chin and picked at his sneakers, of which the sole of one was peeling away from the upper.

   "Ne…Harada-san?" he called softly, but didn't lift his eyes from shoe in an effort to distract himself. "…You liked Dark, didn't you?" Her eyes widened slightly in shock, until she too turned her gaze away so she wouldn't have to look him in the face. "…And I don't…I don't think I want to tell you, though…because—because I don't like to see Harada-san sad…"

   She shook her head and gave a sad smile, and he looked up, "No…Niwa-kun, that's not it…" She sighed. "I guess…yeah, I did like Dark—or thought I did at least. I mean, I was fourteen; my ideal boyfriend was someone who was tall and handsome and cool—Dark just seemed to fit the bill perfectly, you know? But…I know, now…that's not how it should have been. And—Niwa-kun's so nice…but even if it makes me sad, and even if I don't like it, that should never be a reason not to hear the truth. Because sometimes, the truth is all we have left to hold on to…and I want to hold on to it. _Please_, Niwa-kun…"

   He closed his eyes slowly and let the memories drift in on a moonlit mental tide, coming and going as they pleased. "…The earthquakes had already started…the fountains had run dry, and the police were evacuating the city. Dark…Krad…they were fighting in the ruins of what had before been the Central Art Museum. It was…their last fight. The artwork which had given them birth—_Koku Yoku_—was being reawakened somehow and…and we felt we had to stop it…

   "But the only way we could do that…was to seal it. And if we sealed _it_…"

   "…Then Dark-san…and Krad, too?" He nodded. 

   "They fought for…it felt like forever—but I guess that's because they really _had_ been fighting forever. Like that's all they existed for: to battle each other. But while they fought on the outside—Hiwatari-kun and I fought on the _inside_."

   "You—fought?"

   "…No, I guess that's not right, is it?" He cocked his head and searched for the correct phrasing. "He was…performing some kind of ritual, from inside Krad…He said it could only be done then—and that…" He furrowed his brows and struggled to recall the wording: "_'Even Krad can't do anything without my body_…_'_ "

   Risa gasped sharply, "Y—you don't…mean…?" Another nod, and by now the reasoning behind those sad eyes of Satoshi-kun's was becoming clearer and clearer. "…I…I can't believe that he would…"

   "I wouldn't expect you to be able to understand it—because you can't imagine what it was like…Never being able to get close to…the person you like…for fear that they'll discover your secret. Never being able to really be yourself, for fear that that evil inside of you would come out and hurt those closest to you…I don't think _I_ ever really understood what it was like for Hiwatari-kun…and I don't think I ever will…"

   "…Satoshi-kun…" Risa echoed in a whisper, and drew her hands to her mouth, horrified. "But—but—he's gone now, isn't he? You said Krad—that he was gone now, right?"

   "He's gone…"

   "…And Dark-san, too…?"

   Daisuke again closed his eyes and slipped peacefully into the solitude the darkness behind his lids provided, sinking into the inky blackness where he didn't have to see Risa's worried eyes searching for further explanation. But he knew, still, she wouldn't be appeased just hearing this much. And…he needed to speak it anyway. But, to him, retelling the tale was like admitting it all really happened.

   And he didn't want to. He didn't want that—more than anything else, he didn't want _that_. "…Niwa-kun?"

   "He did it…to save us all, you know?"

   "Wh—what?"

   "Dark…he sealed himself and Krad…to save us. Me, Hiwatari-kun, you, Riku-san, this whole city…he sacrificed his own life…if it could even be called a life… Just like it was any other thieving job, and he was just some artwork we were supposed to steal…He just said 'goodbye' and left…as if he'd be back in a few minutes…but he wasn't coming back. _Ever_…" His voice cracked on the last few words, and he quickly cut himself off and lowered his head, propping it up in his hands with his elbows on his knees.

   Risa, too, lowered her eyes and let his final words sink in, before a barely whispered, "…_Gomen_…_Harada-san_…" reached her ears from his lips.

   "…N-Niwa-kun…?"

   "I said…I was sorry…"

   "But, for _what_ Niwa-kun? You shouldn't be apologizing for anything…"

   "It…hurt…"

   She sat a bit straighter now, worry rather than admonition now lacing her voice, and she knit her brows, reaching a hand out to steady him. "Niwa-kun? Are you…are you alright?" He was swaying a little in his seat.

   "…I'm sorry because…because it hurt…when he left." He looked up, and she pulled back a bit from surprise at seeing his watery red orbs. "And I know it was selfish of me to hurt…so selfish…but even though he hurt Riku-san, and even though he made you cry, and even though he brought out all those terrible things in Hiwatari-kun…even though anyone would say the world was better off without Kaitou Dark—no, _because_ anyone would say that! It still _hurt_!" His voice rose in volume, now pleading in tone, as if he was standing before a court, appealing his other half's case. "It hurt so _much_—and it's horrible that I felt that way! Because I had to watch Riku-san cry, I had to watch you cry, I had to watch Hiwatari-kun suffer because of _me_, and I still wanted to keep it that way, because—because—because I _was_ Dark and Dark _was_ me! We didn't just share a body, it was like we shared a _soul_—and when he left…when he left…"

   A single tear trickled down his flushing cheek and dripped onto the soft rug beneath his feet.

   "…When he left…it was like…that piece of my soul that was _him_…had been ripped out…but nobody put anything back in…"

   For a moment, he was aware of nothing but the darkness of his own heart…until he registered a delicate ephemeral feminine touch as Risa encircled him with her arms and lay her head on his shoulder, comforting the boy who three years ago would have agreed to have spent a lifetime with her.

   "…No, you're wrong, Niwa-kun…" He hastily pulled away from her grasp and stared at her with wide, disbelieving eyes. "You're _wrong_. It wasn't bad for you to hurt—it meant you were still _human_. And…you did have something to put back in: Riku." He lowered his eyes and pondered her words before how true they were sank in—yes, Riku-san had always been the one to pull him through. She'd been his source of strength after Freedert, more so she'd been his source of strength after Dark—even now, she was still his true _divine maiden_, for what mortal could embody the angelic traits she held?

   As their conversation drew to a close, Risa pulled away back to her seat, and spoke softly, wringing her hands nervously, "Th…thank you, Niwa-kun…"

   Hastily wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his jumper, he queried back, "Wha—? What do you…mean? What for?"

   Smiling warmly, she clarified, "For…for putting up with me for all these years, for bearing it all." She paused and shook her head, then continued after gathering her thoughts, "I realize that I…wasn't really the greatest friend in the world; I know back in junior high I judged everyone superficially, and…I hurt a lot of people who didn't deserve it. I just brushed off your feelings for me when you really liked me because I didn't think you were 'cool enough', and you bore my crush on Dark with such dignity… I know _I_ wouldn't have had the strength to put up with someone precious to me looking at me everyday, but never really _seeing_ me, looking through to another person inside me…

   "So…not just for telling me all about the white Dark-san…about Krad…but for telling me all about you, for letting me know the real you—for showing me the truth, about Dark, about Satoshi-kun…

   "Niwa-kun…arigatou!" she finished, eyes quivering with unshed tears, and—not wanting to break down before him—she quickly stood and rushed out the door up to the train station, headed home.

   "H-Harada…san…!" he called her back, but she was too far gone to hear—more than physically so. Sighing, he stood from his seat upon the couch and headed to the bathroom to splash a bit of water on his face and calm down. Cupping his palms under the steady stream flowing from the silver faucet, he brought his hands up to his face and let the cool liquid stream down his cheeks and back down the drain, pausing to pull in deep breaths. After a moment he reached over blindly and felt around for a hand-towel, mopping the excess from his face, then stared defiantly into the mirror.

   _'Riku-san_…_'_

   He turned and stepped back out into the hallway, staring at the cordless phone hanging on the wall near the kitchen entrance and squared off. 

   _'Riku-san_…_ someday_…_someday—is today!'_

   He picked up the handset and began dialing the number from memory.

* * *

   Riku thanked Satoshi for his time and left his apartment for home in quite a more somber mood than she'd started out in. Though—it wasn't as if she didn't have a reason now. Hearing the entire back-story of the Niwas and Hikaris was enough to drive even a clown to tears, and needless to say she hadn't been prepared for quite the graphic detail the story had been told in. Artists, thieves, magical beings, centuries-old curses…it all seemed as if crafted from some fairy-tale land.

   Yet it was all heart-breakingly real. _'Niwa-kun_…_you kept this from me? You suffered in silence, when so many times I wanted to just hold you, to kiss away your pain_…_why, Niwa-kun_…_?'_

   Perhaps, she mused, it would have merely caused him more pain to convey it to someone else than to simply keep it to himself—for in the telling lay the _true_ pain, as had become evident as she listened to Hiwatari-kun recounting the tale. Yet she couldn't put behind herself the suspicion that Hiwatari—or rather, _Hikari_-kun, as she'd learned, had a somewhat flawed view of what had happened. Dark…Krad…were they truly light and dark, or was it something completely different? Was the situation really that simple? But she'd been caught up in the tangled web of love and friendship, too, and could relate firsthand that no—it was most definitely _not_ that simple. Niwa-kun had liked Risa at first (though this she'd already known), but Risa liked Dark (again, this she'd already known)—but further tangling it was Riku liking Daisuke, and completely hating Dark (obviously something else she knew already). When Hiwatari-kun had entered the picture, no obvious love "shape" could be determined anymore, and she all but gave up on trying to form one.

   But no, now…now it was blessedly simple. No Dark to foul things up, just her and Niwa-kun…

   Just…the two of them? Did Niwa-kun…like that?

   Hiwatari-kun seemed perfectly happy to be rid of his other half; really, since junior high he'd been more social and agreeable, still as calm and passive as before, but gone was the cold aura he'd given off around his classmates. Being rid of—Krad, was it?—certainly seemed to agree with him.

   For Niwa-kun, though, it seemed his life had taken an abrupt downward turn since Dark had been sealed, as Hiwatari-kun had put it. That old glimmer in his eyes that sparkled with life when they were together, had nearly faded into oblivion, growing dimmer by the day. Did he laugh less? No… Did he smile less? Not really…that wasn't the problem. It was his whole demeanor—his "Niwa-kun"-ness, perhaps, if she could use that terminology. His "Niwa-kun"-ness had disappeared with Dark.

   Little quirks that had at first seemed annoying as they grew up together—his self-depreciating habit, where he'd take responsibility for nearly anyone's mistake; the way he seemed too…too…_caring_, if it was possible to be such a thing, how he took people too lightly, never taking offense. But then, she'd suddenly seen him in a different light—she was hesitant to conjecture that it had been the phantom thief's presence in his blood which had suddenly turned her on to how truly mature Niwa-kun had become. But yes, it _had_ been then; she'd begun to sense a gnawing sensation in the pit of her stomach when Daisuke would offer to take over Risa's cleaning duties. She'd unconsciously grind her teeth when he'd come up asking to carry Risa's books before school. And even when she herself had begun to get closer to him, perpetually at the back of her mind was the annoying little high-pitched grating voice reminding her, _"He only looks at you because you're Risa's twin_…_He doesn't see Riku, only Risa_…_You're kidding yourself_…_"_

   She hated that voice. But it always came back—until he finally silenced it.

   That was, perhaps, the thing about him which most endeared him to her: _he saved her_. His constant reassurance that she _existed_, that—though Risa was the more popular—she wasn't just "Risa's older sister", or "Harada-san"; she was _Riku-san_. When he looked at her, she could feel his eyes seeing _her_, not a substitute for her sister, but really _her_. 

   _'Niwa-kun_…_I_…_I love—'_

   _RING_…

   _RING_…

   _RING_…

   She stopped at one of the benches at the trolley station and sank down onto the soft wood, hastily rooting around inside her bag for her cell phone. Once she successfully located it, she quickly flipped it open, "Hello?"

   There was silence on the other end of the line for the barest moment before a soft steady voice drifted over the airwaves, "Hello, Riku-san."

   "N-Niwa-kun!" Smiling widely now she held the phone with two hands and pressed it closer to her ear, as if by such an act she could get closer to _him_. "What's the call for?"

   Another pause, as if it was taking him a moment to gather the fortitude to form the words. "Riku-san…do you have…a few minutes?"

   Her smile faded slightly—his voice was not as cheery as normal, "Of…of course I do…did you need something?"

   "…Can you meet me at the fountain up by the park on the overlook?"

   "…S-sure…Niwa-kun…is something wrong?"

   The longest pause yet ensued after these words.

   "No, Riku-san…I think…I think something is very _right_…" _Click_—the line went dead, and with furrowed brows she pulled back and stared at it for another minute before packing it back in her purse and hurrying the few blocks up to the newly-remodeled fountain.

* * *

   As she'd been waiting at the trolley station when he'd called, Riku was naturally the first to arrive—though to Daisuke's credit, he arrived a mere minute or two later. Pedaling the same small bike he'd had since junior high, she spotted his spiky red head from the top of the hill, bobbing along up the street towards the newly remodeled coastal area of town. Leaning comfortably upon the rough stone handrail, she gazed out over the vast expanse of water stretching out far into the distance for miles. The sun was sinking slowly into it, sending up a haze of steam that blurred the distant horizon and made her eyes water. How many times had she stood here in the past at Niwa-kun's side, when he would come to sketch the dilapidated houses off to the north, or when they'd come to stargaze, eager to see the thousand stars reflected in the ocean's expanse?

   As he crested the hill, Daisuke easily slipped off the seat and walked the bike the last few feet to lean against a hedgerow, then sidled up beside her and stared across the water with her for a few moments, drawing in deep breaths of the salty ocean air blowing through the town. 

   "Riku-san…" he began, and she turned her face towards him, the setting sun reflected in her dark eyes, "I…I want to tell you, now…"

   She laid a tentative hand on his jacketed arm. "Tell me…what?"

   Turning fully to face her, he looked down, smiling, relieved. "I want to tell you…about that time—everything. About me, about Dark, about…what it means to be a Niwa. I want…I want you to know now…"

   She stared at him for a moment, speechless, before turning back to the ocean and leaning onto the handrail again. Restraining a gentle laugh, she spoke lightly, "…Too late, Niwa-kun!"

   Daisuke blinked a few times in rapid succession, before forcing out, "Too—late…?"

   She closed her eyes and nodded brightly, and the feminine laugh she'd been restraining broke through, so she stuck her tongue out playfully and turned around, now leaning backwards onto the rail. "I didn't want…to see Niwa-kun so down anymore so—so I went to Hiwatari-kun's apartment today, and asked him to tell me why. I knew whatever you were feeling, you didn't think you had anyone else to confide in—because I didn't understand what happened, with Dark and all. So…I went and found out for myself."

   Straightening up, he cocked his head slightly to the side, a smile creeping slowly but surely up over his lips, and he shook his head in mirth. "Was that…bad?" she asked timidly. 

   He responded immediately by enveloping her in a warm hug, pressing her to his chest and burrowing his head into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent. "Riku-san…" he murmured into her jacket, voice nearly lost in the fabric, "Arigatou…" She gently squeezed back and settled her head on his shoulder for the next few moments until they separated, then retreated with him over to a bench.

   "…Ne, Niwa-kun…"

   "Hn?"

   She leaned forward, head propped up in her hands as she balanced her elbows on her knees and looked out into the ocean. "Not that I would have cared if you'd decided to tell me today or ten years from now, but…_why_ today? What made you suddenly decide?"

   He smiled and flopped back against the wood railing of the bench. "Actually…it was Harada-san…"

   "Huh?" She turned abruptly and stared at him. "Risa?"

   He nodded slowly. "She came over earlier this afternoon…and asked me if I would tell her everything I knew about…the white Dark."

   "…Is that…Krad?" He nodded once again. "But…why would she want to know…?"

   He sat up a bit straighter and cocked his head in thought. "She said…that it was for Hiwatari-kun. That she wanted to 'understand him better' for some reason…"

   Riku turned her face forward again and furrowed her brows. "She _has_ been acting a little weird around him lately…" to which Daisuke agreed.

   "Hiwatari-kun too…especially around whenever we go to the Mid Winter Carnival every December…" Here Riku nodded as well, and another moment passed in virtual silence as they pondered, before suddenly whipping their heads to face each other, eyes wide and disbelieving.

    "W—wait a minute—you don't think—?"

   "But—no…no, surely not—not Hiwatari-kun…and Harada-san…"

   Each now further tested this new scenario in his or her mind. "…I…well…it's not _that_ farfetched…"

   "After all…Risa's matured…kind of…"

   "And Hiwatari-kun…well, he always _was_ mature…"

   "…"

   "…"

   "…Nah!" they chimed in simultaneously, laughing nervously and shaking their heads at the utterly preposterous and completely impossible thought of Risa and Hiwatari-kun being "an item".   

* * *

   When the elder Harada finally left his apartment after getting her answers, Satoshi stood at his window hawk-like and watched her make her way down the block to the trolley station safely, then shoved his hands into his pockets and retreated back into the living room, slumping into a seat amongst the couch cushions. He let a sigh blow over his lips and thumbed through a few sheaves of paper littering his desktop before abandoning the attempt to divert his attentions from the events of the past few hours.

   So, did it feel any different now—now that he'd told someone how he'd experienced it? Was it like he'd hoped—that it would feel like some great burden had been lifted from his shoulders?

   …Not really…

   But then, Riku…hadn't been who he'd really wanted to tell it all to in the first place. Let Niwa do it, it was _his_ job, she was _his_ problem, and it wasn't Satoshi's responsibility to explain all the finer nuances of the Niwa and Hikari lines to an outsider, when she already had someone better to hear it from. She'd wanted to know the events of three years ago and why Daisuke seemed so sad at times—so he'd told her. About Dark, about Krad, about their battle in the Central Art Museum. It really wasn't that detailed an explanation, and he hadn't even bothered to go far into the history of it all—did she really need to know _everything_? Well, if Niwa felt that way, let _him_ waste his time with her.

   He had better ideas of how best to spend his time.

   Or…so he'd thought. Until he'd asked her _why_ she wanted to know: what good would knowing do, when it wasn't as if it could help the boy?

   _"But_…_but it can, don't you see? Even if I can only look at him—simply by feeling, I help! Niwa-kun_…_he doesn't have to feel it alone, and I_…_I want to be there with him when it hurts, and even when it doesn't, just to let him know that he doesn't have to be strong—for me, he doesn't have to be strong_…_I just_…_want him to know that_…_"_

   "He already knows…" Satoshi spoke in a raspy voice into the thin silence of his cluttered apartment, "He already knows…"

   Posting his arms stiffly at his sides he heaved himself up off the couch and stared down at the assorted piles of papers spread out over the coffee table—sources for his end of term paper due soon. They would have to wait.

   Bending over quickly he snatched up his house key and headed out the door for the trolley station.

* * *

   Twenty minutes later he somehow found himself standing on the front stoop of the Harada mansion and couldn't rightly remember just what on earth had driven him there of all places. Had something, perhaps, been knocked loose in his head recently? Was he putting in one too many long nights on that Sociology term paper? Could he have been sleepwalking?

   Try as he might he couldn't convince himself he was here on accident. Some time back he'd learned the way to the Harada home after growing tired of always setting out late for the group's annual trip down to the mid Winter Carnival—Risa's packing, it seemed, always caught them off guard and they'd have to delay departure in favor of loading up the car with her three or four bags that—like rabbits—seemed to multiply year after year. Their second year he'd simply shown up at three with his bags in hand, smirking at their shocked faces when he rounded the corner into the main circular driveway and had repeated it since then. 

   As he stood in front of the great double doors, backlit by the setting sun, he waged a great mental battle with himself—to ring the doorbell, or not to ring the doorbell? That was, in fact, the question. For if he rang it, then the door would, no doubt, open, thus setting off a chain reaction that would ultimately end in a very awkward situation for the both of them. If he didn't, though, he could simply turn around and make his way back home, no fuss, no muss, and merely be out the small price he'd paid to make his way over here on the trolley. 

   …But why had he come in the first place? He tried to recall his logic leading up to the decision to head over to the twins' mansion…to no avail. Was this really necessary? It was certainly unlike him, to be this way, but…why did he _want_ to tell her?

   …That was an answer even he couldn't give.

   With a surrendering sigh, he lifted a finger and let it hover over the doorbell for a few seconds before pushing it forward, sounding the bell. The bright clear ringing echoed throughout the house, and he stood for another moment listening to the movements just inside.

   "I've got it, Tsubouchi-san!" came Risa's cheery voice, muffled by the thick wood, and he tensed slightly as the doorknob jiggled and twisted as she unlatched the deadbolt. Slowly the door opened inward and she poked her head out to greet their guest. 

   When her eyes fell upon his tall lanky form, though, she couldn't help the unconscious gasp his presence elicited, and drew back slightly in surprise, fingers losing their grip on the door. The thin outline of his body was fading in the dying light, giving him an almost sidereal appearance backlit by the setting sun, yet he kept his face impassive despite her reaction. "…S-Satoshi-kun? What are…you doing here?" She eased past the door, standing half in and half outside the house, "Did you…need something?"

   His cold blue eyes were unblinking, and she shivered—though from the chill in the air or from his gaze it was impossible to tell. Shifting to the side he shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Kind of…" Turning his back to her, he threw a glance over his shoulder and queried, "Would you…like to take a walk for a few?" She started, and he continued casually, "There's a park up by the trolley station, decent pathways…" After overcoming her period of shock at what he was asking, she hesitantly nodded and excused herself to run upstairs and get a coat from her room, returning a moment later. Assuring Tsubouchi she'd be back in a few minutes, she exited the house at his side, and the two began ambling off towards the trolley station.

   An uncomfortably awkward silence enveloped them for the next ten minutes as they rounded the corner and passed the shopping sector up—the vendors had all already packed up for the evening, Risa didn't know _what_ to say, and Satoshi was never one for idle chatter. Only the faint calls of birds in the trees and local traffic filled the air as they plodded on, and neither spoke to one another until they'd reached the park.

   Under the trees the last bits of sunlight filtered through bushes and overhanging limbs to dapple to sidewalks in a polka-dotted array of dim light, and the chilly October wind blowing about them caused Risa to zip her jacket higher in an effort to keep it out. She allowed Satoshi to walk a few steps in front of her for the next minute or so, until he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks before her and turned to look at her, his face a blank mask. She too halted upon realizing he was staring at her.

   "Harada," he began in that steady voice of his, without ceremony, "…Do you like me?"

   For a moment, she simply blinked in confusion, then easily broke into a smile before brushing it off. "Of course, Satoshi-kun!" she laughed, "We've been friends all this time—even Niwa-kun wouldn't ask something stupid like that, you should know better."

   His gaze grew stormy and darkened, his voice no longer as steady, and he advanced the few feet that had separated them until he was staring straight down into her eyes, their faces barely an inch apart. "No…Harada: do you _like_ me?" 

   It was quite evident she couldn't pass this question off as easily as she'd evaded it the first time, and she bit her lip and turned her eyes from the blue fathoms bearing down on her, as if by doing so she could keep him from seeing the truth. "I…" As if undergoing some sudden epiphany, she quietly breathed, "I think…I do…"

   He let her up and backed away now, turning away from her and narrowing his eyes in confusion. He crushed a few dry leaves which littered the cement underfoot, kicking away the broken remains with the toe of his show. "…_Why_?" Closing her eyes, she found she could give him no suitable reply, but he saved her the trouble: "…I'm not Dark, Harada. However you felt about _him_, I could never have been him."

   Her eyes flew open and she looked up, horrified. "Wha—no!" she choked out in protest; was she really _that_ predictable? Had she not come far from those days in junior high and what she'd convinced herself was nothing more than a silly crush? "No…" Her voice was more steady now, less frantic and hurried, "It's just…you seemed like…like you needed someone to care for you…"

   He gave a dry laugh, completely devoid of mirth. "And you thought that maybe _you_ could be that person, is that it?" he returned coldly, flinging the words into her face. "How would you know what I need? Don't presume to know me just because we happen to occasionally enjoy each other's company: I am _not_ what I seem."

   "No—" she corrected firmly, cutting into him, and he looked up at her now, shocked at the bold tone her voice had taken now, "No—you _were_ not what you seemed, Satoshi-kun. But that was three years ago, the _past_. And I don't presume to know everything about you, but I _do_ presume to know some things. Don't be so quick to push me away simply because you think I wouldn't understand your pain." She suddenly held her right fist between their faces, and he stared at it. "I have…something to show you."

   With a few deft sleight-of-hand movements and a quick flick of her wrist, she produced from the sleeve of her jacket a single white feather, and Satoshi paled in shock, his mouth dangling open ungracefully. She looked down at it and turned it over in her palm a few times, running a finger up and down the vein a few times, stroking it gently; for its age, though, it still seemed as if it had been plucked not a few moments before, and there were no age-spots staining its pure white veneer. "I've kept this…for _three years_, Satoshi-kun," she confessed softly after a moment of reminiscing, "…Do you know why?"

   Completely ignoring her question, he clenched and unclenched his fists at his side, seething. "Wh—where did you get that?" he hissed.

   Voice devoid of emotion, a brilliant switch for the two of them, she easily returned, "From you, Satoshi-kun, although you may not remember it—but answer my question. _Why_ would I keep this?"

   He shook his head to clear her voice from his mind, "I…I don't know…"

   Breaking into a sad smile, she returned her attentions to the feather, running it up and down her cheek, and echoed his sentiment. "Neither did I…until today…" He refocused his gaze on her, confused as ever. "I went…to Niwa-kun's today…and I asked him to tell me everything, so he did. Everything: about Niwa-kun, about Dark-san, about Satoshi-kun…" She paused and leaned in close, looking directly into his eyes, unflinching, "…about _Krad_…"

   Here he abruptly pushed her away and stepped backwards hastily, nearly tripping over his own feet, and shook his head in abject refusal to believe her words, "No…no, no no no no! _No_—he _can't_ have told you everything!"

   "And why not?" she shot back, pained, "Don't you think I have a _right_ to know? I was just as deeply involved in all that as you—admit it!"

   "No—he can't have told you everything about me because—because he doesn't _know_ everything about me, none of you do! He may think he understands how I feel, but he doesn't _know_ it—"

   "Because you won't _tell_ anyone! You say you don't want anyone pitying you, or feeling sorry for you, or—or _anything_—but with you perpetually moping around and bemoaning your 'wretched fate' and all that crap, what would you _expect_ us to do, sit around and let you go about your business as usual?! I care too much—_we all_ care too much. Too much to see you like this, with no one to confide in, and do nothing about it!"

   He growled low, "That _Dark_—he was _nothing_ compared to the hell I lived in with Krad, so don't think just because you heard Niwa's version of those events that you even _remotely_ understand what it was like for me. I told you once already, if I want anyone to feel sorry for me I'll call up Niwa—"

   "I don't want to feel _sorry_ for you!" she yelled frantically, voice cracking, eyes welling up with tears. "I just want to love you!" With a quick gasp she slapped a gloved hand over her own mouth, as if she could take back the words by doing so, eyes wide and quivering with unleashed frustration—both with herself and with Satoshi, and she slowly lowered her head submissively, giving up. 

   Satoshi, though, was just as caught off guard as she was—perhaps more so, as he hadn't expected anything like this to come from the younger Harada. True, he remembered only too well their first trip down to the Mid-Winter Carnival, and the strange kiss they'd shared, but it had been a one-time thing, and both had filed it away in their long-term memories as "_So_ not happening again". 

   After a moment, his mouth once again unconsciously phrased the question forever racing through his sharp mind. "…_Why_, though?" She opened her eyes, and a few stray tears dropped onto the concrete. "…What on _earth_ could possess you…to feel that way about…_me_?" He turned his head to stare at her, disbelief and doubt painted vividly on the smooth flesh of his cheeks, flushed red with the chill.

   Shaking her head, she muttered low, "You really are _blind_, Satoshi-kun…For all the light your real name implies, you are truly stuck in the dark—you can't even see those qualities you possess that Riku, Niwa-kun, and I all cherish so much!" She hastily wiped her eyes with her sleeve and continued while he looked on with furrowed brows, as confused as ever. "You—you—you're smart, yet you don't flaunt it; you care—you're compassionate towards your friends, you're funny when you want to be, you're serious when you need to be, and you give off this…this _air_ of elegance that immediately draws every eye in the room to _you_. You hold people's attentions in the palm of your hand, yet you don't abuse it. You understand how fragile life…truly is." She sighed, defeated. "And it…captivates me…really…"

   The same silence that had plagued them as they'd walked to the park once again settled, making itself at home between the two, and Risa's beseeching words quickly died away on the wind. The sun was beginning its long trek towards the western horizon, and in the distant east the sky was already fading from the bright pale blue of afternoon to the softer hues of early evening.

   "…But, even if that's true…how can you feel that way, knowing what I was…?" His back was still turned from her, and his shoulders heaved. He all but whispered the words in an angry hiss—though not anger at _her_, but more with himself for being so vulnerable under her gaze. "…_How_…?"

   She gave no verbal reply as of yet, and merely stepped forward and approached him from behind, wrapping her jacketed arms around him, and leaning softly into his back, soaking up the life-giving heat of his body and drawing in a deep breath of the chilled air that flooded all her senses with _Satoshi_. "…Even then…even if you were still _him_…even then…I would accept you both…" She could feel his back muscles tensing in disbelief at the statement, but she only clutched him tighter, as if squeezing the validity of her words into his very flesh. "For Satoshi-kun…I would…I would accept—Krad!" she finished in a small cry, slightly muffled as she buried her face into the soft wool of the back of his long coat. "I would…"

   Though she could not hear them, inside his head were echoing the ghosts of Daisuke's desperate words from long before.

   _"If you keep on living, you'll eventually meet that person—someone who'll say, 'I'm glad Hiwatari-kun is with me.'"_

   Eventually…?

   …Why not now?

   Why not?

_fin chapter three_

* * *

_Post-Chapter Notes_: And just for fun, we end on that Satoshi/Risa note again. Whoa, umm, so here's the deal: I'd wanted to make this chapter a lot longer than this, because there was a lot more I wanted to include, but then I looked and saw that this thing was already 20 pages long, and figured after that I'd start to lose interest probably—so sorry about that! Ah, and if you haven't noticed, I tend to have a penchant for angsty scenes (after all, I am sage of ANGST), but these big sad scenes will end soon, this I promise, especially when we catch back up to the present in the next chapter (umm, I _hope_ it's next chapter…)—I have great plans for little Daiichi! As always, thanks for sticking with me, and don't forget to R/R!—sage


	4. Hello, Goodbye, It's Been Too Short

_Author's Notes_: Well, let's see if we can't get to the end of this flashback in _this_ chapter, since I failed miserably to do so in the last one. Sorry it's been such a while between updates, I was beckoned back to my DBZ stuff for a while, since it had been a few _months_ since I'd updated there (yes, be glad I don't take that long with this series ^_^). I promise much more time coverage here (well, not that much more), though this will be another sad chapter. Weddings, funerals, and college—what else can make us cry so? Also, quite a big chunk of this will contain references to a "manga-only" scene, so if you're confused, just let me know and I'll explain!

And that college thing, I'm not kidding. It's killing me now…but enough of my whining. Why don't you go read now? That's what you clicked for!

* * *

_Chapter Four: Hello, Goodbye, It's Been Too Short_

   _Tick_…_tick_…_tick_…

   Ah, those blessedly quiet moments in the still mornings just before a hectic day begins, when the only sounds audible to even the most attuned ear are the soft steady intakes of breath as you slumber, blissfully unaware that in three…two…one…

   **_BRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING--! BAM!_**

   "…I'm up…I'm up…!" Niwa Daisuke murmured sleepily as he fumbled blindly at the bedside table to turn off the alarm clock, only managing to knock the device to the floor where it landed with a loud _THUD_. This sound, actually, served to wake up the redhead quicker than the insane clanging of the alarm clock, and he raised his head and blinked stupidly in an effort to focus his eyes.

   It was eight o' clock in the morning, and it was far too early to be up.

   Alas, though, he had a lab meeting in less then forty-five minutes—one which he could not afford to skip out on, as he'd already skipped out on the previous week's one for an early weekend with Satoshi and the twins at the downtown art-show. Riku had reprimanded him after learning of his cutting class, and made him promise never again to take such an action on her behalf, lest he face the _consequences_. Now, Daisuke didn't know what those consequences were, but he didn't particularly care to learn either.

   First priority, now, though, was a shower. An energizing shower, sure to bring him fully to his senses—which it did. While he swiftly toweled off and threw on a set of clothes suited to the mild April weather, he ran the day's agenda through his mind.

   Laboratory across campus—that was first—then the potentially interesting "History of European Renaissance Art," which would hopefully rouse him from the all-too-tedious tedium of lab. After that was lunch with Riku-san, who would have just been released from the claustrophobia-inducing rooms of the computer-science building. 

   Tokyo University at Azumano—where he, Riku, and Risa were all enrolled, finishing up their freshman year. The campus in springtime was a sight to see, the sidewalks littered with sakura blossoms, blowing around in miniature tornados and staining the sky pink. All around the long-sleeved shirts of late winter were being traded for the lighter wear of March, April, and May. Skirts were getting shorter—not that he noticed, mind you—and study hours were getting longer with the impending presence of finals. But that didn't mean he couldn't take some time off and grab a bit of lunch with Riku-san, now did it? Certainly not.

* * *

   "Alright everyone, that's going to be it for today's lecture—just be sure to go over those pages I talked about in your books and don't forget to email me your contact information. I'll be back for lecture again on the twenty-third—or sooner, if Suzimaki-sensei calls upon me again before then. Good day." Hiwatari Satoshi bowed to two hundred or so faces staring back at him from the audience—the two hundred or so faces of his _students_. 

   He found it only slightly ironic that he should be standing here before these people who were the same age as he—some older, in fact—assigning work and slapping examples up onto a blackboard as if he were their elder or something, though upon closer thought it wasn't _that_ difficult to believe.

   Daisuke, Risa, Riku—he was their friend, yes, but he most _definitely_ didn't care for them enough to go through college _again_. Once was enough, thank you very much. And even though Tokyo University didn't offer quite the educational challenge that Lagoon University had, it still wasn't a fun four years he was looking to repeat. Graduating high school at eight…college at thirteen…some things he didn't mind the second time around—especially with people like Niwa and Harada around; others he wouldn't go through again no matter the sum paid. 

   So it was for this reason that Satoshi was standing at the front of this auditorium-sized classroom watching a mass of students his own age exit, eagerly discussing his lecture. _His_ lecture, for he was the occasional guest lecturer to the university's "Archaeological Magic Through the Ages" class, and wouldn't lie by saying he didn't get some ego-boost from being addressed as "Hiwatari-sensei" by the students. Though one in particular never addressed him so formally—at least, not outside of class.

   His eyes swept the room up four rows and over seven seats to the petite brunette gathering her notebook and texts into her messenger bag, preparing to sling it over her shoulder as she followed the mass out the double doors. He sauntered over nonchalantly and leaned forward onto one of the desks a few rows below her—to which she didn't even look up, but failed to keep a smile from creeping over her lips. "So, Harada…when are you going to break down and actually find a real _major_ like Niwa and your sister…I doubt 'General Studies' will get you very far in life, you know."

   "Well," she huffed as she stood up straight and lifted the pack onto her shoulder, "What's to say I haven't decided that _this_ will be the field I specialize in?"

   He cocked his head slightly to the side and peered up at her knowingly from underneath ice-blue toned bangs as if to say, _Come on_… "Harada, it's one thing for _me_ to lecture on it…I practically _am_ magic…and it's not really a field, per se, unless you want to be sent to some hole-in-the-wall end-of-the-earth outpost in some place like Romania and study outdated tombs and track down vampires and werewolves or some other such nonsense humans have come up with over the years."

   "Then…" she began, scanning the room to be sure they were alone and stepping off to the side towards the stairs, to which he leaned back and watched her descend silently, "Maybe I simply need to little private tutoring."

   All he could do in response to this was smirk and shake his head, expertly hiding the blush which threatened to march across his cheeks. "I really don't know how you would survive this institution without my help."

   "And what's _that_ supposed to mean, _Hiwatari-sensei_?" she queried in mock anger, and turned to face him full, hands set firmly on her hips as her gaze darkened threateningly. "Not all of us are geniuses, you know. What was it, graduated high school at ten?"

   "Eight, thank you very much," he corrected, "And since when do you call me 'Hiwatari-sensei'?" He held out a hand to walk her down the steps to the main level, ever gallant as a knight.

   As the two meandered out the main doors into the bright sunlight streaming down, Risa replied cheerily, "Would you rather I call you 'Satoshi-kun' in front of two-hundred students who feel you merit some modicum of respect even though you're the same age as most of them?"

   "Ah, touché…" After a moment's silence as they made their way to a nearby café for an afternoon cup of tea, he continued curiously, "I sometimes wonder just how much we're skirting the law by seeing each other. I am, technically, a faculty member, and you are, technically, a student, after all."

   "Well, you're the cop, Satoshi-kun. Isn't it your job to know these kinds of things?"

   "_Was_ the cop—and it'll be too soon if I never have to take up that career again."

   "Oh?" She turned her head up to meet his gaze, which stared ahead unblinkingly from behind thin-wired frames. "You didn't like the police force…then what exactly _are_ you planning on doing with your life?" It was, suffice to say, not a topic the two had discussed before.

   He appeared to ponder for a second, perhaps turning a few ideas over in his ever-calculating mind, before responding, "Well…I suppose…I wouldn't mind something along the lines of being curator for a museum or such. I could even host a few of Niwa's works, if he ever manages to graduate."

   "I wouldn't worry about Niwa-kun—Riku will _definitely_ make sure he stays on task here. Though I can't imagine him in any other field than art, so I don't think he'll spoil this opportunity. I mean, a full scholarship…"

   Satoshi nodded sagely and pushed open the coffeehouse door, eliciting a light merry tinkling from a tiny bell hanging overhead, and the two were immediately assaulted with the warm, rich aroma of freshly ground beans percolating in the kitchens behind the counters. 

   While Risa wandered away and secured a pair of seats, Satoshi hung behind at the front counter while their cups of green tea were prepared, then joined her at a small table towards the rear of the establishment. As he was concentrating on his own drink and trying not to burn himself with the near-boiling liquid, he missed the look of hesitation which crossed the younger twin's face as she bit her lip uncertainly.

   "Ne…Satoshi-kun…" she began, forming the words slowly, and he looked up at her curiously, daring a sip from his mug—ah, still too hot!

   "What?" He blew lightly across the surface of the tea and swirled it a bit.

   "What would you think about…about…meeting my parents?"

* * *

   "You—your _parents_?" Daisuke choked out, pounding his chest to dislodge the food that had become stuck in his throat when he'd swallowed too large a bite. "What's brought this up all of a sudden, Riku-san?" Wait…the twins actually _had_ parents? Wow, he'd never even asked about them before…

   Riku nodded shyly and shoved a few leaves of lettuce from her salad around with her fork. "They just got in yesterday from Belarus, and Papa said…that he and Mama would actually be in town for a few months while they wait for their company to send them elsewhere for their next relocation assignment. And, somewhere along the way, Risa and I mentioned Hiwatari-kun and you, and…well, you know how parents are…"

   Daisuke nodded dumbly, muting out Riku's voice as he went over the situation in his head. Meeting Riku-san's father…he'd heard far too many horror stories about a father disapproving of his daughter's taste in men and running of prospective suitors—would that happen to him? What—what if he told Daisuke he could never see Riku-san again?! What if he threatened the poor red-head with bodily harm if he ever got "too close" to the elder twin?! What if—what if—

   "Ne, Niwa-kun?" Riku waved a hand in front of his glazed-over eyes worriedly, tapping him a few times on the shoulder. "Niwa-kun? Hey—are you alright?" Snapping out of his stupor, he laughed embarrassedly and shook off the feeling of foreboding that had enveloped him for the past minute. "So, you think you could come over Friday evening? We'll have dinner, you, me, Risa, Hiwatari-kun, and Papa and Mama, that way you don't have to be alone with them!" She smiled broadly, and suddenly Daisuke felt ten times better, eagerly agreeing.   


* * *

   Friday evening came much more quickly than either boy had expected—and had the twins not reminded them that very afternoon of the engagement, it was safe to say that both would have promptly forgotten the dinner, earning them black marks in the Harada books for all time, with the annotation, "_Do Not Allow To Date Daughters_" next to their pictures. Luckily, though, this was not the case, and Satoshi and Daisuke were standing on the front stoop as they'd done so many times before, except this time they were both just a bit nervous.

   "You think…it'll be alright?" Daisuke asked hesitantly, always the more obvious of the two in showing his anxiety. Satoshi, as always, was an expert at keeping a cold exterior, hiding away his emotions inside walls of ice deep within himself. But even now this was not much of an advantage over the smaller boy, and he shrugged uncertainly, fearing his voice might crack if he gave a verbal reply to the question. 

   A single finger was lifted and triggered the doorbell, sending the gong echoing through the house—and much to their relief, the twins were their receptors, guiding them through the maze that was the Harada mansion into a spacious library/parlor that was overflowing with cushiony chairs, sofas, chaise-lounges, and any other bit of furniture that might be construed as "comfortable" to sit on. "Papa will be here in just a moment—good luck!" and with that, the two were abandoned to fate, and fate had never been one to play nice with Daisuke or Satoshi.

   After another few moments, during which Daisuke sat down, stood back up, paced, and sat down again no less than four times, the Harada paterfamilias slid open a side door and entered solemnly, a thin manila folder clutched in his left hand at his side. He was not all that distinctive in appearance, but rather exactly how one might have pictured the twins' father. Tall, stately, clean and clipped, dressed in a dark business suit; he was slightly thinning on top and slightly thickening in the middle, but his shoes shone immaculately without a speck of dust on them—was he, perhaps, a military man? Could that explain why they'd never met him or his wife before?

   Any further observations were cut short, though, as he breezed past the two younger boys and sank down into one of the sofas situated about a coffee table, holding out a hand for them to do the same, which they did after casting a glance to one another. The elder man turned his eyes from the two worried pairs searching him for new instructions, and now opened up the folder he'd been clutching, running his eyes up and down a page of information before moving on to the next page, brows furrowing in interest.

   Daisuke sweated nervously and looked down at his sneakers while he waited for him to speak, uncomfortably certain that he'd under-dressed for the occasion now, despite Riku's assurances that normal casual attire would be perfectly fine. A quick glance over at Satoshi sent a tiny pang of jealousy through his gut: the Hiwatari boy simply didn't understand the _meaning_ of under-dressed, and even now wouldn't have looked out of place inside the staunchest of board-room meetings. From his crisply-ironed half-button-up shirt to his wrinkle-less trousers down to his barely-worn loafers, he was nearly as imposing as Riku-san's father. 

   "You are Niwa Daisuke," a sharp voice interrupted his musings, and he snapped to attention immediately, back straightening up as he stared into the father's hard brown eyes, "Are you not?"

   "Y-yes sir. I am Ni-Niwa Daisuke, sir," he stammered out, nearly tripping over the syllables in his own name as he rushed to respond favorably towards Riku-san's father. The stuttering was paid no attention, though, as he merely turned his eyes back towards the file again and flipped back a few pages. Daisuke glanced over at Satoshi, a questioning expression on his face, and was returned a mental shrug, how would _he_ know what that meant?

   "And you—Hiwatari Satoshi, is that correct?" The Hikari boy gave a curt nod and sat up straight as Daisuke had as well, but was returned the same cold stare before being dismissed so that the man might go over the folder again. Now it was Satoshi's turn to glance over at the red-head in confusion—what _was_ this about?

   As if reading their minds, the Harada father cleared his throat loudly and set down the folder onto the coffee table with a loud _thwap_. "Alright—I approve."

   "Wha—_what_?" two voices stammered simultaneously, jaws dropping ungracefully as they momentarily forgot that they were trying to maintain some level of propriety in this man's presence. "Ap—prove?"

   He nodded, then his entire mien shifted as he broke into a wide grin. "Absolutely! Welcome to the family, boys!" And with a strength neither would have suspected, Harada hopped up and scooped the two up into his grasp, one body in each arm, and gave them what they guessed was a fatherly hug. "And about time, too! I was afraid without a mother most of the time that those two would never learn anything about relationships—but I guess I was wrong!"

   "Uh—exc-excuse me, sir, but—this was a test of some sort?" Satoshi gasped, trying his best not to let his ribs be crushed in the overly-enthused father's grip, and his ears were assaulted with a loud raucous string of laughter, shaking him and Daisuke from side to side.

   "Test? Was it a test? Well, yes, I suppose it was some sort of test, if you wanted to call it anything." Here he released the boys who were only too pleased to put some few feet of distance between themselves and the laughing man, all air of dignity dispelled from the room. 

    "I'm just glad," he continued in a more normal tone, wiping a few tears of laugher from his eyes, "That you weren't some hack detective obsessed with catching that thief _Dark_ like that Inspector Saehara down at the precinct—" Satoshi gulped nervously, "Or even worse—that you weren't Dark himself—" Daisuke gulped as well, "That kaitou's gallivanting escapades made the news all the way over in Belarus; frankly we were getting a little worried for their sake. Good to see the girls found themselves some nice normal young men like yourselves!"

   "Ah heh…th-thank you, sir…" Satoshi managed, heart-rate increasing the longer he stood under Harada's beaming gaze. Daisuke, too was beginning to squirm, and added, "I guess we've been…taking care of them while you and Riku-san's mother have been away." Here he paused, and a though flitted across his mind, "But…if I may ask, where have you—"

   "Oh—girls!" the father called loudly, projecting his voice towards the back of the room where he'd entered, interrupting Daisuke mid-question. "Girls—is dinner ready yet?" He turned back to the boys, "Sorry to cut our meeting short, but I know you must both be famished, and Tsubouchi-san does like to eat promptly lest the food turn cold. Let's go out and join them, shall we?" He was returned two curt nods, and led the party out the parlor entry-door and through a long hallway into the dining room they'd passed by earlier.

   "Ne, Hiwatari-kun…" Daisuke muttered just loud enough for his friend to catch his voice, and the two hung back a few meters behind Harada, "Do you think…he was avoiding my question? Back in the library? He seems…" Satoshi turned curious eyes from the questioning boy to the object of his query and back.

   "…I…don't really know, actually…I'm usually good at reading people, but Harada's father—I just can't. He's got such emotional range it's hard for me to tell when he's serious and when he isn't…" Here he trailed off, for they'd arrived in the dining room and taken their proffered seats at the rights of Riku and Risa before flawless table settings, and in short order plates and platters, trays and tins, goblets and pots of all shapes and sizes were carted out and passed around—a veritable feast for the six who eagerly dug in. 

   As their stomachs became fuller, the air of tenseness around the group dissipated—facilitated by the fact that Daisuke and Satoshi had survived "the talk" with the twins' father—and conversations between various parties flowed easily and lightly. When Risa's mother nonchalantly asked Satoshi what sort of business he was in, he easily replied, "Right now I'm a part-time lecturer up at the college, though in the fall I'm looking to enter into curator-ship of one of the downtown art museums." Risa gasped softly, barely audible to any save Hiwatari, who cast her a sideways smile, and studied his features to see if he'd actually decided upon this. During their conversation earlier that week, she'd thought he'd just suddenly entertained that thought about running some sort of museum—how long had he really been thinking about this?

   "Ah, a museum curator, is it? A fine career choice, Hiwatari-san, I trust you're a connoisseur of art, or some sort?" the Harada father cut in, and Satoshi fought the urge to smirk and laugh roughly.

   "You…could say that. I've been around art all my life—any and every form it can take: paint, pencil, clay, metal, song and lyric, the body itself. It only seemed fitting that I dedicate the rest of my life to preserving that which has supported me for so long. And—well, I figure Niwa's going to need _someone_ to finance his first show when he hits it big."

   "Hiwatari-kuuun…" Daisuke moaned, eliciting a chorus of laughter from all present. The rest of the night was, thankfully, quite uneventful, though neither boy was able to get any more information out of the Harada parents regarding their line of work, and the twins didn't seem to be all that clear on the details of the nature of their work either.

   "Just business stuff, mostly. They travel around a lot, wherever their company sends them," was Risa's simple answer, and Riku's was pretty much the same, though this didn't seem to bother the girls that much at all, who'd never given their parents' work that much consideration before. The discussion was filed away for later re-thinking for the moment, and it was approaching ten o'clock before Daisuke noted that his own mother and father would probably reprimand him if he stayed out much longer, and that he needed to be heading home. Catching a ride on this idea, Satoshi too confessed that he needed to get home and begin piecing together notes for his next lecture. They bid the girls goodnight and stepped out into the pleasantly warm night air, headed up to the trolley station, from which they would take separate paths home.

   "So…Hiwatari-kun's going to be a museum head, huh?" Daisuke shook his head in mirth, "I suppose that's somewhat appropriate; after all—you spent all that time studying layouts of them to thwart Dark, you should know them like the back of your hand, right?" Satoshi playfully shoved him to the side.

   "Watch it, Niwa—don't make me fail you."

   "Hah! You can't pull that with me, I'm not your _student_. Unlike a certain Harada-san…" He leered at the blue-haired boy beside him and nudged him in the ribs. "I was _wondering_ why she signed up for such an obscure class…"

   "Hey! It's not an obscure class—"

   "Tsk, not for people like _us_, Hiwatari-kun. I just find it difficult to picture Harada-san poring over some text on demonic seals and pure-white healing to prepare for a test in _your_ class. Been giving a bit of private tutoring that Riku-san and I don't know about?"

   Satoshi rolled his eyes, by now quite used to Daisuke's banter on his unlikely pairing with the younger twin. "No more help than I'd give any other student."

   "Any other student who calls you 'Satoshi-kun', though?" 

   "Oh, go paint a picture, Niwa."

   "Gladly!"

* * *

_Six months later_…

   A trilling ringing shattered the peaceful slumber Satoshi had been enjoying up to now, curled in a warm nest beneath a comforter and several layers of sheets, and he hastily tried to sort out his mind and become conscious enough to discern what exactly the trilling noise _was_. 

   It was the phone—the one he'd brilliantly had installed right at his bedside all those years ago so he might instantly be alerted to any new activity on Dark's part at any time of the day or night. Sure, it was brilliant—when he was _fourteen_. But he was not fourteen any longer; he had recently turned twenty, in fact. Yet here he still was, in the same apartment filled with the same memories, listening to the same phone ringing, wresting him from his dreams.

   Oh, right, the phone.

   Slapping himself a few times across the face to further rouse himself from the cobwebs of sleep, he shook his head and squinted around in the darkness, feeling with a shaking hand for the phone. By sheer luck he managed to knock it from the receiver and catch it just before the handset hit the floor, bringing it slowly to his ear and closing his eyes as he muttered wearily into the mouthpiece. "Hiwatari Satoshi here."

   There was a long pause on the other end of the line—so long, that he furrowed his brows and wondered if the caller had hung up—and suddenly a soft voice spoke up over the airwaves.

   "…Hiwatari-kun…"

   Had someone unceremoniously slung a bucket of ice water over his pajama-clad body, this could not have woken him up more than the simple uttering of his name by Daisuke did. "N—Niwa? Niwa, what…" He turned his head to focus on a glowing green set of numbers beside the phone receiver, "Cripes, Niwa, it's two in the morning!" 

   There was no reply to the outburst, and this sent a shiver of unease through his body. Normally Daisuke would have rushed out a hurried apology before explaining himself, about how he hadn't realized how late—or early—it was. But he was having none of that now, nothing. "…Niwa? Niwa what's wrong?"

   "Gomen…for the time, Hiwatari-kun. I know you were sleeping…" The voice was weak, tired—but not from sleep, as Satoshi's surely sounded. Daisuke's sounded weary, as if he'd walked a thousand miles and was simply looking for a place to rest for a moment.

   "Just—tell me what you need, Niwa." He sounded sick, too; there was a raspy air to his voice, and every few moments he'd give a feeble sniff. "Niwa…?"

   "Hiwatari-kun, I need…you to do me a favor…" When Satoshi gave no response of refusal, Daisuke continued slowly and softly in almost whispered tones, "Could you please…tell Riku-san I'm sorry…but I won't be going to class tomorrow…" He sniffed again, "I know she'll be mad, but could you please…please apologize for me…"

   Shifting the handset from one ear to the other, he sat up a bit straighter and furrowed his eyebrows worriedly. The boy was beating around something, refusing to outright speak what was going on, and instead skirting the core issue. "Alright…I'll tell her Niwa—but first, you tell me…what's wrong. What's going on, Niwa? Why won't you be at school tomorrow?" He knew unless he made his question very specific, there was always the chance Daisuke would dodge him. Duck his head, run for cover, as a good phantom thief should.

   Not so this time, for it was as if this was the very question he'd been hoping Satoshi would ask. His voice was weak and tremulous, thin as a spider's thread: "…Jiichan…just died."

* * *

   The words had scarcely left the Niwa boy's lips before Satoshi slammed the phone back onto its cradle and had dashed out the door. The trolleys wouldn't be running at this hour, so he fired the engine of his own car and squealed out the apartment garage, leaving smoking tire-tracks on the concrete behind him as he shifted into drive and pressed the gas pedal to the floor, headed for the Niwa residence. 

   A single ambulance was already there, lights flashing intermittently, with attendants carrying something—or some_one_—out into its cab on a stretcher, a crisp white sheet wrapped over it. He leaped from the driver's seat and slammed the door shut, rushing up the sidewalk and began knocking furiously on the door.

   It was Emiko, the Niwa family matron, who met him there, eyes widening slightly in shock—and who could blame her, really? The last remaining member of the Niwa's rival family, pounding down their door at such an ungodly hour, looking as if veritable demons from hell were on his heels, and what was more—right when their family had been hit with such a tragedy. Did these ice hunters not know when to _give up_, when to let them alone?

   "Ni…Niwa…where is Niwa? Daisuke?" he huffed, catching his breath.

   "I knew who you were looking for, Hikari boy, there was no reason for you to speak my son's name, you know," the mother practically growled out. It was obvious the stress of her father's sudden passing combined with the still-present grudge she held against him from those years ago was testing her patience, and Satoshi pulled back slightly in case she perhaps decided to physically lash out at him. He was saved, though, when Daisuke's father joined them at the threshold.

   "Hikari-san…Daisuke is up in his room…will you go to him?" The father's eyes still held the ever-gentle gleam they'd had when they'd first met, but it was more muted now, toned down by the depressing aura of the household, and Satoshi could do nothing but nod solemnly, and waited as Niwa Kosuke shuffled his wife to the side, whispering a soothing statement in her ear as she made a feeble objection at his entering their home.

   One hand steadying himself on the railing as he mounted the steps up to Daisuke's second-floor room, Satoshi had to force his breathing to slow down, force himself to _calm_ down. Why was he here? To help Niwa, to just _be_ there for him—for that was the reason he'd been called: Niwa needed someone there with him who understood. Who understood _him_. While Riku no doubt fit this description, it was clear only Satoshi would do in this instance.

   Padding softly as he could across the carpet, he gently eased the door open, cringing inwardly as it squeaked loudly on its hinges, and peered in, searching for Daisuke—whom he found seated hunched over on his futon couch, head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. He didn't raise his head when the other boy entered, for he'd known he was coming, and knew neither of his parents would ever enter with such silence.

   "Ni…wa…" he murmured softly, steps slowing the nearer he got, until it seemed an eternity had passed before he was finally at his side, and slid down next to him, one hand resting comfortingly on the other's forearm. Daisuke shuddered unconsciously as if an electric circuit had been completed when the Hikari boy's fingers had brushed his skin, jolting him. For the next five minutes, they simply stayed this way: neither speaking, Daisuke hunched over, and Satoshi resting a palm on his arm in comfort, letting him know that he was there and he wasn't leaving.

   "Jiichan…left…Hiwatari-kun…"

   Satoshi faltered awkwardly, searching for words that didn't fall dumb in his mouth in response, "I…I know, Niwa…I'm sorry…"

   A silent nod from the redhead, who finally lifted his eyes from the floor to stare straight ahead at nothing, his thoughts turning inward. It was obvious to any onlooker he'd been crying, and here Satoshi realized that that was what he'd heard lacing the normally-cheery boy's voice over the phone: grief. He could see the tiny diamond-like glitter of tear-trails wending their ways down his flushed cheeks, and his eyes themselves were glazed over with a film of unshed sadness. "You were…very close to him, weren't you?"

   At any other point in time Daisuke might have laughed loudly at the ludicrousness of the question, but not now. Here, instead, he could only smile wryly and try and keep his voice from cracking as memories washed over him, and he nodded vigorously to keep the tears at bay. Wiping a sleeve purposefully over his eyes—futilely—he sniffed again and coughed. Voice a raspy whisper, he added, "…It's like…I lost _him_ again…"

   Satoshi sat up straighter at this change in tone and cocked a worried eyebrow when Daisuke said "_him_". He pulled his hand away instinctively and fumbled for words for a moment, "Niwa…what do you…"

   In a frenzy, suddenly he whipped his head around to stare full on at the boy trying to comfort him, and the tears once again overflowed their banks and dripped down. "_Him_! Don't you _see_?! _Him_! Jiichan…Jiichan was all I had left…the only link left…to _Dark_! All this time—all these years—" His voice cracked, and he swallowed angrily. "—I could move on because of _Jiichan_! I could go out with Riku-san, and you, and Harada-san; I could have fun, I could enjoy school, _life_—because I knew deep down that if I ever felt lonely or sad or I missed _him_, then I didn't have to bother you and make you mad, or make Riku-san worry. I had Jiichan—Jiichan who _was_ Dark, who lost him too, just like me. Jiichan who knew how it felt to lose that part of his soul that Dark had taken with him, just like me. Jiichan who…Jiichan who…

   "…He was _all_ I had left…and now it feels like…like I lost him all over again…and it _hurts_ still Hiwatari-kun…" His chest heaved as another bout of sobbing wracked his frail body, and still he resisted the urge to voice his sadness in the form of a cry—not before Hiwatari-kun, at least. 

   "Back…when they'd just been sealed…I used to talk to Jiichan everyday…we'd just have some tea and talk about the 'good old days' and how great Dark was and all…and as time passed, I didn't need to talk to him about that as much to get by, to be happy, only once every so often—usually when something I'd seen or heard would remind me of a job we'd done together or some joke he'd made before, and then I'd just go home and we'd talk again…

   "And today…today I'd wanted to talk to him…but…I'll never be able to…ever again…"  
   Satoshi let the boy wear himself out before even attempting to talk some sense into him, and after a few more minutes of silence had passed, he deemed it finally safe to come out. "Niwa…" he breathed, voice betraying his shock, "…You've been doing this…still dwelling on Dark…for all these _years_?" The boy nodded dumbly, refusing to meet his gaze, "…And you didn't tell any of us about it—you thought that I'd get mad, or Riku would worry, is that it?" Another nod, and Satoshi cursed. "_Niwa_…I _still_ don't have your trust, do I?"

   "Wha—?!" Daisuke shot to attention, bloodshot eyes wide and frantic. "I—no! That's not it—!"

   "Then what _is_ it, huh, Niwa? You thought I would get mad, is that it? That I would just brush you off and tell you to get over it, just because I didn't feel that way about _Krad_?! Give our friendship more _credit_! I—I would never treat you that way, especially about something like that; I care for you _far_ too much to let you piddle away in your pity pool alone—because you and Harada surely didn't let me stay that way. You _saved_ me, Niwa, inside Krad, made me see what life was really about: being near those who care about me. And what kind of—of—_Hiwatari-kun_ would I be if I turned you away when you most needed someone who knew how you were feeling?

   "Because _yes_—loath as I am to admit it, I _do_ know how it feels to lose that part of my soul that that demon clutched onto. He was as much a part of me as Dark was of you, and it too hurt when he left—though for me I considered it a good hurt. Inside, I can still feel a hole, a void that he occupied and filled—and…I desperately want something to replace it…so I hold onto Harada. But you…you tried to put your grandfather into it, rather than coming to one of us!" He leaned forward and swiftly grabbed onto Daisuke's shoulders, shaking him slightly as if such an action would make the shocked boy see reason. "Niwa—I—"

   He paused and turned his eyes down to the floor, biting his lip in frustration. "Niwa…you…are the closest thing I've ever had to a real family…You cared about me even when I was your enemy—even when Krad threatened your life…even when I stole Dark from you…and I _never_ get to pay you back for that! I want to be—I want to be close to you too, to be there for you when you need it, even if you don't _want_ it. But I can't when you won't _let_ me. _I_ learned to let you and Harada in—will you not do the same for me? You say you don't want to hurt me or make me angry, but by shutting me out you do so anyways!

   "You may have lost your grandfather…but you will _not_ lose me." He released the boy from his grip and let his limbs fall back limp at his sides, exhausted. Daisuke was paralyzed with shock, unable to form a coherent reply for a good five minutes, and when he finally regained control of his senses, he found all he could—and wanted to—do was lean forward and wrap his arms around Satoshi, uttering a feeble, "Arigatou…Hiwatari-kun…"

   "No…" Satoshi reminded, returning the gesture, "Thank _you_, Niwa." An awkward moment suddenly descended on the two as they parted, surprised that they'd gotten so emotional, and Daisuke twiddled his thumbs absently, then turned his head towards his bedside table, reaching over and pulling open a drawer, withdrawing a shoebox from it. With curious eyes the blue-haired boy regarded this action, and sat in silence as the other gently shut the drawer back and set the shoebox down on his lap, sniffing once more, and removed the lid.

   The inside was littered with tiny bits of nostalgia: hundreds of newspaper clippings on Dark's various escapades, a ticket stub from their first trip down to the Mid Winter Carnival, a single unopened chocolate from one Valentine's Day, a program from their high school graduation ceremony. Shifting aside a few of the items, Daisuke slowly uncovered a tiny velvet box, deep violet in color, and lifted it from the rest of the contents, setting the carton aside into his bed, and turned the tiny box over in his palm, regarding it in silence.

   It took a full ten seconds for Satoshi to deduce just what was inside it. "Niwa…is that…?" A gentle smile crept up over Daisuke's lips, a decidedly foreign expression on an otherwise grief-stricken face, and he nodded slowly. Popping the top open, he revealed a thin golden band with a small diamond inlaid in it, glistening even in the dim light of the room—an engagement ring destined for the finger of one Harada Riku. "You…you're going to…"

   "I _was_…" Daisuke confessed dejectedly, and hastily closed the top back and dropped it back into the shoebox, replacing the cardboard lid. "It was supposed to be tomorrow…I'd made reservations and everything…it was all supposed to be _perfect_…but now…

   "Now it'll be put off indefinitely…I just…can't imagine celebrating something like an engagement to Riku-san at a time like this…" Truthfully, he couldn't at the moment imagine celebrating _ever again_, such was the pain in his heart. He'd been told before that the passage of time served to heal all injuries and ease the aching of the heart, but Dark's memory alone was testimony enough that this simply wasn't true. Time only served as salt on a wound in his case, reminding him day after day that there was something missing in his life, and until the day he died it would be the same way. _This_ was his eternal Dark. 

   "But…" Satoshi interrupted his thoughts and drew the box back out, staring at it intently, "He'd want you to be happy, wouldn't he? Not putting off something as serious as this for his sake, but moving forward—constantly moving forward, following your true feelings. He loved you…wouldn't he want what's best for you?"

   _ "Daisuke…the heart moves…when it does, the one you feel seriously about is everything…your feelings are the most important thing, understand?"_

   "…Jiichan…" He looked up, pensive for a moment. "…He…would, I suppose…"

   "Of course he would," Satoshi repeated more firmly, "As would Dark—neither one of them would want to see you without a smile on your face, not on what should be one of the happiest days of your life." He reached out and grabbed Daisuke's wrist firmly in his fist, then posited the velvet box squarely in his palm and wrapped the boy's fingers securely around it. "I'm not…I'm not saying that you should be happy now…" He paused and stared deep into Daisuke's crimson orbs, and added with purpose, "But I _am_ saying that you should be _happy_. Eventually. Content—with your life.  For them. For Riku, for me, for Harada…Take your time, mourn—and we'll all be here waiting for you, ready to help you. _I_ will be here to talk—about anything, at any time. Since you don't seem to have a problem calling me at—oh, say, two in the morning."

   Daisuke gave a feeble laugh, unable to keep it in despite the somber atmosphere. "I…I will, Hiwatari-kun."

   "See that you do." He stood up from the couch now, arms limp at his sides as he stared down at the carpet beneath his socked feet. "If…you still want, I'll explain to Riku what's happened tomorrow." He began traipsing towards the door and out of Daisuke's room, and so he did not hear Daisuke's whispered words aimed at his retreating form. 

   "Thank you, Hiwatari-kun…more than you'll ever know…"

* * *

   _Meet me at the benches in front of the Rugaru Art Museum this evening, 7:00._

   Riku read and re-read the notice, penned in Daisuke's short, neat hand, then turned the card over to see if any further clues had been left on the back—no such luck. Three weeks had passed since the sudden death of his grandfather, and she'd been surprised that he'd returned to school only a few days later, declining the proffered week's absence the university normally provided for the death of a family member. Hiwatari-kun, on the other hand, didn't seem all that surprised, leading her to conjecture that the two had probably had another one of their "talks" they seemed to share so often. And she would admit, he was probably a better audience for the nature of Niwa-kun's problems than she, but she wouldn't lie and say she didn't feel a slight pang of jealousy for the blue-haired Satoshi.

   Which explained how overjoyed she was—despite being a bit confused—at receiving this card from Daisuke in her inbox just now. It was Saturday, and classes had been cut short for a "reading day" in preparation for midterms—though few students actually used the time to study, instead opting to meet with friends and generally have fun. She considered, for a moment, getting Risa's opinion on Daisuke's sudden request for her company that night, then brushed it off. The last thing she wanted was teasing from her twin regarding an "exotic evening encounter with Niwa-kun".

   She ate lunch alone back at her dorm today, not wishing to intrude upon Hiwatari-kun's and Risa's "lunch date"—if it could be construed as such—and munched down a bland-tasting ham and cheese sandwich, staring ahead into space, before realizing she'd been staring right at a picture of herself and Daisuke from a few years earlier. A gentle smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and she set down the sandwich and reached across the desk to view the picture more closely, running a finger over the slightly dusty glass.

   Daisuke was standing before an easel, partially hidden by it, with a palette in one hand and a long paintbrush in the other, sporting an apron of which the original color was impossible to determine, so dirtied with paint was it. Behind him, and clutching him around the neck, was Riku, grinning widely as she tugged at Daisuke's cheeks, smearing them with blotches of blue paint she'd just dipped her fingers in. The Niwa boy didn't appear all that pleased with his face being used as a towel.

   She replaced the picture in its original position and turned to pick up its neighbor—one from their first trip down to the Mid Winter Carnival. She, Daisuke, Risa, and Hiwatari-kun were all standing in front of the great fireplace in the lobby, all offering large grins—or in Hiwatari-kun's case, simply smiling contentedly—exhausted from the long weekend. She vaguely remembered Risa recounting something about nearly being arrested that time, but had never had the full story explained, and feared she might faint from embarrassment if it ever _was_ explained, so she didn't ask. 

   But Niwa-kun…he was…more distant lately…Mostly in the past few weeks—she chalked it up to his grandfather's passing and tried to convince herself that with time he would shift back to the normal Niwa-kun she knew and loved.

   Because yes—she did love him. Loved him more than he knew, more than she knew, more than anyone could ever really know. For to understand such a love was impossible.

   She loved…loved his smile most of all, if she had to pin one thing. The brilliant grin he flashed so often, the epitome of his "Niwa-kun-ness" that speared her when he looked her way, sending a jolt of electricity through her heart. It had been a while since she'd seen that smiling face, and she missed it. It was like he wasn't even really there when he didn't have that smile in, was simply a moving body without a soul…

   A few times, a dark little voice had piped up inside her head, warning that the boy was, perhaps, growing tired of her. They'd been together now for nearly six years now—dating, "going out", "seeing each other", however one wanted to put it. She and the Niwa boy were virtually inseparable, but seldom did they have any quality time alone lately. When was the last time they'd had a night to themselves and gone and seen a movie or dined at a restaurant? Or even just sat and talked, just the two of them? College had certainly played a part in this, but it had never had such impact before—there had always been time for them to just relax and enjoy one another's presence. Until lately…

   She shook her head vigorously and brushed off the dark thoughts—tonight she was meeting with him! Perhaps tonight he might explain what had been bothering him of late, why he'd been so distant. And after that she'd forgive him and hug him—kiss him even, show that she loved and cared for him still, after all this time and all they'd been through. And then, maybe they'd walk down to the shore and wander the beach staring up at the stars, find a comfortable spot and gaze up into the night sky. Or perhaps they'd instead go out to eat—a casual dinner, just the two of them, and he would make her laugh with some stupid joke that was funny simply because Niwa-kun told it. 

   She read the notice once more. _The Rugaru Art Museum_…something gnawed at the back of her mind, some significance of the location, but years had faded any memory she may have had as to why it mattered, and she giggled inwardly. Tonight, things would change. She could feel it.

* * *

   By the time seven o' clock rolled around and she stepped off the bus in front of the museum, part of the pieces of the memory puzzle this building played a part in began to fall into place. Its towering gothic walls dwarfed the few mom-and-pop shops at its sides, and the granite steps leading up to imposing oaken doors were littered with bits of paper and trash from passers-by and museum goers who'd wandered by the institution earlier that day. But this, she discovered, was not the first time she'd been here—for this had been one of the earlier targets of Dark Mousy's thieving jobs years back. What exactly had been his prize Riku couldn't tell you, as she didn't care enough to remember. It only stuck out in her mind in that respect because she herself had ventured here in search of Risa, who had foolishly come looking for the kaitou late at night.

   And Niwa-kun…of course Niwa-kun had been here. Thinking back she remembered running into him, and even remembered wondering just _why_ he'd been here, and never really getting a straight answer. She ran a hand over the rough granite railings of one of the benches and smiled.

   "…Riku-san?" She gasped at her name and whipped her head around, nearly bumping into Daisuke, who'd approached with such silence that had he not uttered her name she still wouldn't have realized he was there.

   "Ah—Niwa-kun, s-sorry…you scared me." Her face grew slightly warmer, oscillating between embarrassment that he could still surprise her like that and embarrassment on account of the close quarters they were occupying right now. He'd come up from behind, and when she'd turned she'd found her nose barely an inch away from her own, and backed up a step out of habit. Searching around for something to tear her gaze from the cold fire of his own eyes, she turned her attentions to the card she clutched tightly in her fist. "Um, this…I got this today…you wanted to talk about something?"

   He smiled enigmatically but gave no verbal reply, merely reached down and took the card from her hand, ran his eyes over it a few times, then stuffed into his own back pocket. "Let's go, Riku-san," he declared simply, and grabbed her wrist in his grip, pulling her forward alongside him.

   "But, wait—! Niwa-kun—where are we going?" He turned his head left and right as they crossed the median over the four lanes of traffic running in front of the museum, and she awkwardly pulled her jacket a bit tighter with one hand as a gust of wind blew her short brown hair up around her face. 

   "Just right over here, over to the side, along this fence here…" He trailed off, a bit distant, not really speaking to her so much as assuring himself of something. He stopped a moment later and let her hand drop from his, but this was only to grab her by the shoulders and steer her forward in front of him, positioning her in some stance he had obviously planned out before. Leaning back he looked down at her feet, then stepped back a few more feet from her, lifting his eyes back to hers. "There."

   She didn't say anything in response, still confused, until, "'There'…what? What is 'here'?" His cryptic smile grew even wider. "Ni—Niwa-kun, what is this?" She was starting to get a little annoyed with his game.

   He pointed a single finger at the spot she was standing on. "It's not National Foundation Day, but I couldn't wait until then. And this probably holds more meaning for me than it did for you, because I've got more reason to remember it than just that. But…

   "This place, right where you're standing, right where I'm standing. This was…back in junior high, where I first told you that…I liked you." Her eyes widened as the final piece of the memory puzzle slid into place, and the fog lifted. "You couldn't hear me over the fireworks, but you did hear on the MD file Saga-san gave you the next day. Dark had come to retrieve the Moonlight Mask, and Harada-san had come for Dark. You'd come for her, and it wound up I came for you…here."

   He lifted a hand to cup her cheek, rubbing a few strands of her thin hair between his fingers and smoothing the pads over her skin. "I said, then, that I liked you…" He swallowed hard. "But that's not true anymore."

   Riku's heart stopped with shock and plummeted into her stomach, leaving a gaping vacuum where it had been—but he didn't even give her time to fully process the words before rushing to add, "I don't like you, Riku-san. I _love_ you."

   As if time had been reversed her heart leapt back into its original position—no, rather it soared to new heights, and might have flown up her throat and out into the wild blue yonder had Daisuke not stopped it from doing so by swiftly planting his own lips on hers in a tender loving kiss, so soft, sweet, and yet all too short. He pulled back slowly, and she blinked stupidly, completely caught off guard by the bold move—but not hardly put off by it, she had no trouble admitting. As their faces parted, some voice in her mind noted blankly that Niwa-kun seemed to be getting shorter and shorter…but that was only because he was sinking down to one knee, teetering slightly off balance on the concrete, and reaching into the right-hip pocket of his well-worn jeans.

   Had she been in any right state of mind, she might have recognized the action from "the scene" spoken of in books, on television, in movies, in song, in pictures—in any media form, really. Boy meets girl, they fall in love, they kiss, boy gets down on one knee, and then…

   But her heart was still pounding a loud tattoo in her chest from the rash kiss, and she was still struggling to get her senses back on order, so she merely regarded him dumbly as he sank down to the ground before her, hand clutched around a tiny velvet box.

   "Harada Riku-san," he began steadily, surprising even himself with the fact that he managed to keep a quaver from worming its way into his throat. If ever he needed to be calm, _this_ was the time. _Now_. He cracked open the lid and held it up for her to see its contents, "Will you marry me?"

   "…You…me…?" her mouth fumbled feebly in a half-whisper as his words washed over her, echoing loudly inside her mind, and he laughed easily.

   "Of course—who else would I be asking?"

   She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again, blinking a few times to be sure that—yes, she was still here, standing in front of the Azumano District Rugaru Art Museum, with Niwa-kun, balancing before her on one knee, holding a positively gorgeous diamond ring, eyes hopeful red beacons. "…Y-yes…" she whispered, then repeated with firm conviction, voice rising in pitch, "_YES_! Yes yes _yes_!" She bent down a bit and threw herself forward into his waiting arms, completely ignoring the bit of jewelry he'd deftly slipped on her ring finger for the moment, and collapsing into sobs against his chest, breathing in his scent and burying herself in him. "Yes!" she repeated once more for assurance. He loved her, _he loved her_—and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with _her_. "Yes, Niwa-kun!"

   She pulled back abruptly and stared at his face, marking it in her memory, though her vision was blurred by eyes glazed over with tears of joy, and fought back a sniffle. He'd become remarkably adept at keeping his emotions from running too wildly across his face—something he'd been horrible at in junior high and even high school. She could always tell when he was lying, because he would flush red and begin to sweat a little, and his voice would quaver as he searched for a suitable lie—but not so nowadays. Usually she couldn't really tell what he was feeling unless he came out and told her, which frustrated her to no end knowing that he might have been hurting and she wouldn't have known it.

   But now…even though he'd become almost as good as Hiwatari-kun at disguising emotions, nothing could keep the joy from sparkling in his eyes, and his mouth broke into his wide "Niwa-kun" grin, the one she loved so much—the one she'd missed so much. And he was wearing it just for her. Raising a trembling hand, she grazed his lips with a fingertip, running it over them, just feeling his warm flesh under her touch. She tested his high cheekbones, his forehead, his sturdy jaw-line, even the very tip of his nose—it was all real, and it was all hers. She cried. 

   Great big drops rolled down her own cheeks and plopped loudly on the pavement below as he pulled her close, whispering soothingly into her ear, a bit worried at the outburst. "I thought…you didn't like me anymore…I thought…" she blubbered, words mish-mashed with sobs of joy and lost in the fabric of his thin sweater.

   He gave a thin, knowing smile and held her, running a hand down the back of her head. "Never, Riku-san, I could never not like you…because I love you too much." She choked on a half-cry/half-laugh and sniffed again, pulling back and wiping a sleeve vigorously over her eyes, leaving only a few droplets on her lashes which sparkled like diamonds. 

   She stood back fully upright and dropped her head to her chest, bringing her hands together and wringing them nervously in front of her, unconsciously brushing over the newly slipped-on diamond ring, and Daisuke too stood. "Ne, Niwa-kun…I…I want to ask something of you…" she began hesitantly, cheeks flushing a pale red, though it was unnoticed in the failing light.

   He cocked his head curiously to the side, heart still beating furiously, "Wha—what is it, Riku-san?"

   She dared to look up into his face, and queried shyly, "If…if it's alright…can I…call you Daisuke-kun—I mean, I like calling Niwa-kun Niwa-kun, but when…we marry…" 

   She trailed off into idle rambling, unable to form a true question, and Daisuke merely shook his head in mirth, taking her hand in his and pulling her forward to kiss her lightly on the temple, then whispered against her skin, "I would be honored, Riku-san."

   After another bout of tears of happiness from Riku, her husband-to-be finally deemed it necessary to get her home, lest anyone worry as to just why he'd summoned her so mysteriously—after all, he hadn't been specific when requesting to meet her earlier that day. He pulled up into the circle of the Harada mansion driveway and walked her to the door, parting with a simple goodnight kiss and extracting a promise for a proper engagement lunch date the following afternoon.

   She squeezed inside and waved goodbye to him as he pulled out of the driveway with a crunch of gravel, then shut the door slowly, falling back against it and sighing deeply. Her eyes still stung slightly from crying so much—but it was _good_ kind of hurt, and she closed them once more, pausing to pinch herself to once again be assured that the whole night hadn't been some miraculous dream. It was in this position that Risa found her a moment later while wandering from the drawing room into the living room, and started when her eyes took in the flushed cheeks of her sister.

   "Riku…were you…crying?" she tested softly, approaching cautiously, ready to lend an ear—had her elder had some kind of fight with Niwa-kun, or—heaven forbid—had they broken up? She knew emotions between her sister and friend had been tense for a while, but it had happened before, and they'd always seemed to come out the stronger for it. But perhaps this had been the final straw.

   Riku nodded her affirmation, that she _had_ been crying, and even now tears threatened once more to spill over, but her face was curiously a broad grin, and she lifted a single hand, spreading the fingers wide so that the diamond encrusted into the gold band glittered noticeably.

   Risa's mouth dipped open, wider, wider, until it was amazing she was even able to form words at all, much less yell, "No way…_NO WAY_!" And it was here, that the two collapsed into fits of giggles and girlish screams that hadn't been heard in the Harada mansion since the twins were very young.

* * *

   After the initial shock from both families had passed—though most everyone had known it was inevitable save Daisuke and Riku themselves—it took a good couple of weeks before anyone even realized how much planning actually went into a wedding. From wedding date (there were 365 days available—how could they choose _one_?), to location (a traditional shrine, or church? Would it even be in the Azumano district?), to even details as seemingly insignificant as what type of vegetable would be served at the reception (an all-out war over "kale or leeks" nearly broke out between Daisuke's mother and Risa—the self-appointed wedding organizers)—with so much to do, it was clear it was going to be a _long_ road. 

   But tedious as it was to sort out all the finer details and such, it seemed as if they'd merely blinked and another eight months had passed. A warm June breeze was drifting through the town, and Satoshi was traipsing back up the steps to the Central Art Museum, having just returned from lunch with Risa. She'd insisted on going over the table setup for the reception with him, claiming his "organizational skills from trying to catch Dark-san" would prove invaluable in the Riku/Daisuke wedding endeavor. She'd neglected to take into account though, apparently, the fact that he'd never actually _caught_ Dark, but this didn't seem to deter her in the least.

   After an hour he'd managed to pry himself away from the younger twin and get back to his position as co-director—a job he'd picked up in the past few months, admitting begrudgingly that the notoriety the Hiwatari name gave him was not all bad, really. Apparently his step-father's family's contributions to the institution had not been small by any means, but rather had labeled the name as a major contributor to the arts—how ironic, he thought. While the occasional tour he gave to grade-schoolers and interested patrons was not the "glamorous" life of a curator he'd imagined, he did enjoy the decent pay and short hours he was required to put in, enabling him to stay on as a guest lecturer to the university and keep up with Harada, her sister, and Niwa. The three had just finished their sophomore years and, though they should be relaxing and enjoying the summer holidays ahead of them, instead all were gearing up for the finishing touches on the wedding, barely two weeks away. Daisuke's tuxedo had yet to arrive, the caterers _still_ hadn't gotten back with them to finalize the guest numbers, and the wear on the bride-to-be was beginning to become evident, for according to Risa she'd been skipping meals in favor of going over last-minute plans for the rehearsal dinner later that week. 

   The younger Harada, though, appeared to be enjoying herself immensely in the atmosphere of tension surrounding the two families. "I just, I dunno…maybe I could do this for a living, you know?" she conjectured to him one day, and he nearly sprayed his tea all over a woman walking past their table. "What was _that_? You don't think I could do it? I'll admit it's a trying career, but I got this—this _rush_ when Emiko-san asked me, 'Quick, Risa-chan—red or lavender?! The florist has to know _now_!' the other day…" She finished with a wistful sigh and laid her head down upon her folded arms across the table, and Satoshi gulped nervously.

* * *

   Daisuke stood stiff and stately in front of a long mirror, staring intently at his reflection, and straightened his tie while Satoshi leaned, bored, against the wall off to the side. "It looks _fine_, Niwa. Stop twisting it around or you really will mess it up." Obediently the redhead removed his hands from the black tie and instead moved them to his suit, running a hand over the bottom of the jacket to smooth it out, and brushing a bit of dirt off the shining black surface of his shoes.

   He turned left, then right, admiring his profile, and fluffed his hair lightly, giving it a shake or two to be assured it was at its best. Then he was still, paused, running his eyes over his reflection, and was quiet. After a moment, he tentatively stated, eyes uncharacteristically somber, "I wish…I wish he could've been here, you know." He turned his head to face Satoshi. "Just…I want him to see what I'm doing, to know that I'm alright, and he doesn't have to worry…"

   He shifted back to the mirror and once again began nervously fiddling with the tie, obviously perfectly positioned around his neck, completing his immaculate appearance, from spiky red head to shiny black shoes. Satoshi lowered his head and sighed, then stepped forward and moved around behind Daisuke, so that he could face him in the mirror; the boy looked up from his tie into deep, serious blue eyes. 

   "You know, Niwa…he could never have been _here_ in the first place…" It was blatantly obvious that this just confused poor Daisuke, whose brows knit slightly in misunderstanding, and Satoshi stretched an arm out to encompass the dressing room they were occupying at the moment, "_This_, Niwa—all this. By the time you made it here, do you really think there would have been any of _him_ left inside of you?"

   Apparently this only served to confuse him more, and the Hikari boy sighed low and continued as if lecturing a small child, "When he first manifested himself in your body…what were you told was the only way you would ever be free of his presence? I know that mother of yours told you—what did she say, Niwa?"

   Aah, now realization was washing over Daisuke as relentlessly as an ocean swell during a storm, taking away little bits and pieces of his happiness as he remembered. "In order for you to come this far…she would've accepted you—_all_ of you. Dark as well. And then…he'd be gone." He paused, before adding, "Tell me, would it have hurt any less?"

   But just as soon as he'd uttered the last question, he wanted to take it back, for Daisuke's eyes fell to the floor, glistening with sadness. His own eyes had narrowed to dark slits, and he had to force himself to look away, disgusted with his speech. He cursed his actions—this was supposed to be Niwa's day, _his_ time to shine and be happy, and Satoshi found himself ruining it for the poor boy. Something about him, though, almost gave him a wild thirst to rub his face in the hard truth, to force reality on his optimistic soul. This was, he'd convinced himself, the _old_ Satoshi, the one he'd tried to keep locked away since becoming friends with Niwa, but at times he still resurfaced, heaping this desire to bring the boy down to earth on his mind—

   This, though…this day shouldn't be about _his own_ desires. This was Niwa's day—his wedding day, finally arrived. His chance at happiness, one denied Satoshi for so long.

   "But…" he corrected himself, voice soft, and laid a hand gently on Daisuke's right shoulder, still staring at his reflection in the mirror, "If he could have been here…he would have been proud of how you've turned out…"

   A single tear rolled down his cheek, and Satoshi could not discern if it was from joy or from his previous words, stomach churning guiltily. "Th—thank you, Hiwatari-kun…"

   The deep gonging reverberation of the chimes overhead sounding called their attentions back to the present—the bells were ringing, signaling the imminent start of the ceremonies.

   _It's time_…_Niwa Riku-san_…

_fin chapter four_

* * *

_Post-chapter notes_: Wah! I couldn't fit it all in _this_ one either! Bad sage! And so, the full impact of the sadness has been split up and divided between this and the next chapter (dare I hope this loooong flashback might be finished then? I'm not holding my breath…) And that shounen-ai-esque scene is as far as I'm willing to go! So I hope those yaoi-crazed readers out there are satisfied, even though it wasn't meant to be taken in that respect—it was something I noticed when going over the chapter. As for the wedding scenes and all, I'm not all that knowledgeable on traditional Japanese weddings in any way, so I'm using the good old-fashioned American one as a template, hope this doesn't put anyone off ^_^. And about the Harada parents…heheheh…well, you'll just have to wait and see about them, won't you? On a final note, is the chapter length bothering anyone? Should I make them shorter and therefore update more often, or is longer better and worth the wait? Let me know in a review (yes, I'm sneaky that way)—sage


	5. Advance Notice of Children

_Author's Notes_: GASP! What's this?! You mean…she REALLY finished that frigging long flashback!? Wait! Where is the hellfire, the brimstone, all the signs of the apocalypse, for surely the end of the world hath come! 

   Alright, here's your chapter, you people who are so eager for more Dark and Daiichi cuteness, end of flashback and all. Enjoy ^_^.

* * *

_Chapter Five: Advance Notice of Children_

   "Ah, Riku! It's great!" Harada Risa all but squealed as she took in the whole of the room they were occupying at the moment. "And at such a low price too!"

   "I know! We saw it advertised just a few days ago, it was almost too good to be true; I practically had to force Daisuke-kun to call the realtor—he thought it was a scam! But now that I see it, I still can't believe it…" The sisters wandered around the room, heels clacking loudly on the hardwood floors as their eyes ran up the long walls to the tall ceiling overhead, eventually falling away to the large stone fireplace, everything bright with sunshine streaming in through the windows. "Our first _house_!"

   "Won't it be nice to finally get out of that guest bedroom back at Niwa-kun's?" Risa reminded her sister, "Ah, I can't _wait_ to see this place all decked out! Have you decided what you're going to put where?"

   "Yes! I have the _perfect_ floor plan already set up. You see…"

   Hiwatari Satoshi yawned loudly and quickly tuned out the girls' idle chatter. Whatever obscure fields his interests might lie in, home décor was _not_ one of them. A sofa was a sofa, and if you asked him it didn't matter where you put it, someone would sit on it if they were tired enough. It would not be more comfortable in the corner as opposed to along a wall, so what did it matter?

   This was perhaps explanation enough for the state of his apartment, which Risa could only describe as, "…Eew, Satoshi-kun…" Ever the subtle one, that girl was.

   The three were currently standing in the middle of what would eventually be the living room of the new single bedroom home Niwa Daisuke and Riku had just bought. The twins were, of course, chattering away discussing which piece of furniture would go where, unnerving Satoshi, while Daisuke was busy with some mundane task in the kitchen. He silently prayed that the boy would return soon and relieve him of the pressure of being the only male in a room positively bursting with estrogen.

   In an effort to distract himself, he shuffled away from the twins towards the large fireplace and cocked a head as he stared into the grate. As it was wont to do, his mind wandered away, pondering what memories might be made by the newlyweds in front of this fireplace.

   In his mind's eye, scenes flashed in quick succession before he could register them as coherent thoughts, ephemeral as shooting stars. A candlelit dinner for two on the eve of the New Year…Niwa seated, penitent, before a canvas, smiling contentedly as he put the finishing touches on another masterpiece, with his wife peering over his shoulder, congratulating him with a chaste kiss on the cheek…a Christmas morning, with a child ripping open packages with feverish haste, exactly how he might have pictured a young Daisuke…

   So many images, so many potential memories…images and memories he wished he could have the chance to participate in. He laid a hand on the mantle and leaned forward slightly. Riku's voice cut the air as she suddenly remembered something and rushed from the room into some other area of the empty house, leaving Risa and Satoshi alone. The younger twin's eye fell on him over by the fireplace and she wandered over. 

   "Brooding again?" she playfully tested, taking his hand in hers, and he quickly turned around, the images fading from his mind as his mask fell back into place.

   Slowly he shook his head and replied with a smile, "No, it's…it's just that…I'm happy for them, you know? For Niwa. He…he deserves some happiness in his life, and I'm glad that he's finally accepted the fact that he _can_ be happy this way."

   Cocking her head, Risa chided, "Hey, don't you go all, 'Niwa Niwa Niwa' on me now. You're saying that as if you yourself don't deserve any happiness—and you _do._" Clutching his arm closer, she laid her head on it and pulled him away from the fireplace and any images he might have seen there. "More than I can say, you _do_ deserve a chance to get over the past, just like Niwa-kun's doing. So the only one keeping it from you _is_ you. Now—" She stopped and turned around, facing him, and straightened his shirt, "—put on a smile and let's go. Niwa-kun's taking us all out to dinner tonight to celebrate selling that new piece of his you were showcasing down at the museum." She began walking into the kitchen, pondering aloud, "What was its name again…?"

   Dutifully, he supplied, "_Menou_ was the title, I believe."

   "Yeah! That's it!"

* * *

   It was night, it was December, it was freezing, and Hiwatari Satoshi was _late_! His feet slapped loudly on the concrete as he jogged across campus, late from his final lecture of the evening. Glasses bouncing around on the bridge of his nose, nearly falling off a few times, he clutched a sheaf of loose papers fiercely in one arm, while with the other he maintained a firm grip on his briefcase. His lecture on, of all subjects, the Cultural Revolution had gone wonderfully—almost _too_ well, as curious students overflowing with questions regarding the mysteries surrounding the event kept him a half hour late. He'd thought forty-five minutes would be plenty of time to allow him to get across campus in time to greet Risa as she exited her 7:30 class, but apparently he'd failed to factor in post-lecture questions. 

   No longer enrolled in his single-semester elective class, Harada Risa had finally settled into a major over in the Human Resources department of campus—as bubbly and social as she was, this seemed the perfect career field. She'd study and specialize in something like sales, the specifics of which she had many choices—perhaps even the wedding organizer job she'd pondered a month prior.

   He slowed down in front of the dilapidated offices of the Human Resource Department and allowed himself to finally catch his breath, arranging his things more neatly. Swiftly he shoved the sheaf of papers into his pack and proceeded to sling it around his shoulder, but just as he finished, a pair of glass double doors flew open, spewing students out into the chilly night air. Among this flood of bodies was a petite brunette, chatting excitedly with an unknown blonde at her right, oblivious of Satoshi for the moment.

   At length, though, the unmistakable presence of a tall pale stranger was noted by Risa, who donned a sheepish smile as she pulled away from her friends. What a turn-around _this_ was! Here he was, never one to initiate anything, waiting for her outside her class rather than the other way around as it usually was.

   "Well well, what brings the professor all the way over to _this_ side of campus? Quite a ways from the Archaeology Department, aren't you?"

   He replied in mock offense, "What, can't I walk you back to your room every now and then?"

   She smiled and replied lightly, "And escape suspicion-free? Not a chance."

   Blushing pink under her curious gaze, he turned to face forward again, "Well, I just…just…felt like it…" he finished in a small voice, eyes falling to the ground as he continued to walk straight ahead. He tucked his chin closer to his chest in a failed effort to hide his face in the shadows cast upon him by the moon.

   Risa stopped suddenly and stared at his form, back turned to her, strangely. "Satoshi-kun…" He too stopped upon hearing her footsteps behind him slow to a halt, but her grin merely widened, and she laughed, "You are a strange one." She then rushed forward and took up his hand as she pulled him ahead with her. "So walk me home, that's why you came!"

   The next ten minutes drifted by in silence as the two ambled slowly along a park sidewalk towards the women's dormitories. One block ahead, the old stone building Risa lived in rose up to meet the two, and Risa turned her head slightly to the left, peering at the man walking beside her out of the corner of her eye as subtly as possible—quite a feat indeed for her. The moonlight was streaming down as if a cascading waterfall of light, unhindered by the few foreboding clouds lingering nearby. Looking upon him this way, it was all but impossible for anyone to tell where the beams of moonlight ended and where this Hikari boy's pale alabaster skin began, for he all but glowed, giving off the aura of a demigod walking beside her, treading across the unworthy ground.

   Risa quickly turned her face back forward and lowered her eyes as her pace slowed, until she'd come to a complete stop. Slowing down with her, Satoshi was pulled away from his thoughts, and queried what was wrong.

   She shook her head as if to wave it off as nothing, then her hand fell from his, limp at her side, "Satoshi-kun…doesn't it feel like…" She trailed off, her voice inaudible, and his eyes narrowed slightly in concern.

   "Like what, Harada?"

   "Like…" Her hands clenched into tight little fists—his voice, it was concerned, but that was only because he hadn't heard her clearly, it wasn't because he felt what she felt at that moment. It wasn't because he _understood_. "Nevermind…it's nothing, just me." As if putting an end to the conversation and moving on to another topic, she physically began to move forward as well, leaving him standing behind her, until he suddenly reached a cold hand out and snatched the tail of her long coat, halting her in her place.

   "What…what was that about?" His tone was at once both confused and slightly offended, though through it could not be missed the undercurrent of worry that spiked at her strange behavior. This Harada was never one to keep things bottled up inside—it was all but physically impossible for the girl to keep quiet about something that was bothering her, he'd been around her long enough to realize that. "What were you going to say? 'Doesn't it feel like…' _what_?"

   Still she kept quiet, and he reached around and gripped both of her arms, forcing her to stand in front of him and face him, refusing to let her simply walk away. "Like _what_, Harada?"

   Slowly she raised her head, and in all the years he'd known her, this was the first time he'd seen her show _him_ this face: her cheeks were flushed, not from the wind though, and a thin film of tears covered her deep brown eyes, making them shimmer in the moonlight. When she spoke, it was not in her usual cheery voice, but with a tone that suggested this was something he should have _known_. "Doesn't it feel like…we're stagnating here, Satoshi-kun? That's what I was going to ask you. Don't you feel like we're just doing the same things over and over, day in, day out? Neither of us getting any closer to the other, having lunch together, sometimes walking home together, visiting Niwa-kun and Riku together, but…not moving forward…together?"

   His brows knit over bottomless blue eyes, marring his face with worry, "Harada…?"

   She shook her head again, though this time it was in a manner that almost seemed as if she was trying to humor some naïve child that was having trouble grasping a concept she'd been diligently explaining, and laid a palm gently on his cheek. "Satoshi-kun…we can't keep doing this—it's not helping either one of us to be stuck in this loop, not with our whole lives ahead of us, waiting to be lived…We can't—"

   But she could not continue to say what it was the two couldn't do, because her lips were suddenly occupied in a forceful kiss initiated by Satoshi. It was searing, it was sudden, it was…new. This kiss was not gentle as their first had been, a stolen one exchanged at the carnival on the staircase, nor was it filled with the joy and excitement of their surroundings as when they'd posed for a picture at Riku's and Daisuke's wedding after they'd caught the bouquet and garter. This time, it was hurried, rushed, almost…desperate. It seemed to serve little purpose beyond silencing Risa before she voiced her rash decision to break off their relationship, as it appeared she had been trying to do moments before.

   "Don't you _dare_…" he breathed in a throaty voice against her lips as he slowly pulled away, resting his forehead on hers, eyes boring into hers. "Stagnating? Is that what you call this? You see Niwa and your sister, then you look at us—they're married, they've just bought a house together, his work is selling wonderfully, so we're _stagnating_?" Mere inches from her own, his eyes seemed a bit wild, and he had to force himself to get a grip on his emotions, pulling away and releasing her from his spell at last. In a very small voice that seemed to summon his whole strength, he muttered, "It's not as if I wouldn't _like to be closer to you…"_

   Now it was her turn to eye him curiously and press him with, "…What?"

   He repeated with conviction, eyes not once leaving hers, "It's not as if I wouldn't like to be closer to you. You've pulled me this far—I'm not one to give up so easily. Do you remember, Harada, when I asked you years ago if you liked me?" She nodded slowly. "And do you also remember, when I asked you _why_ you liked me?" A follow-up nod. "And you said it was because…"

   He trailed off, and she picked up, "…Because…you fascinated me."

   "Did I ever tell you…why I accepted that? Why I allowed myself to return those feelings, rather than once again to push you away?" Here he raised a hand and brushed a stray hair from her cheek, palm lingering on the wind-burned flesh. "Did I ever tell you…why I liked _you_?"

   Her eyes widened slightly, and she somehow found the strength to now shake her head. "No, I didn't, did I? You never let me. It was enough for you that someone you cared for returned your feelings, never mind the reasoning, wasn't it? I had been alone all that time and was finally opening up myself to another—that, too, was enough for you, wasn't it? But…that wasn't enough for _me_.

   "Harada, you were and still are the most naïve, unworldly, single-minded female I know—and I say female because Niwa has surpassed you to become the most naïve, unworldly, single-minded _person_ I know. I could leap the length of your attention span when it comes to topics which don't interest you, and I'm still trying to decide between you and Niwa's mother on which is the more…how can I put this gently… _bubbly_.

   "But…all of that is what makes you the person you are today, Harada Risa." She started, for it was the first time he'd ever actually called her by her first name, and her heart gave a little jump as a tremor ran up the length of her spine. "I would take all those traits and more, good and bad, if I could just once hear you tell me again to 'Stop brooding,' or simply to see you smile at some strange quirk you seem to find in me. No matter how much I wanted to slip back into the darkness back then, you absolutely refused to let me, even after you found out what I was. When you saw me in front of that fire, you could have taken your tea and climbed those stairs up to your own room, yet you instead came and held a civil conversation with someone who only thought of you as 'that annoying girl who hung around Dark'."

   "_That's_ how you saw me?!" she interrupted in mock anger, blushing lightly, and he smiled softly at the outburst, glad to see her somewhat returned to her normal state.

   "There is so much more depth to you than I'd thought…that it scared me at first. So many things I'd taken at face value only to have them transform into something more than I ever could have hoped they'd be. I'd wanted Niwa to simply be a clumsy fool whose own kindness would be his destruction. I'd wanted Krad to be merely a means to an end, a quick and easy way to capture Dark and fulfill my duty as the last remaining member of the Hikari clan. You…well, I don't know that I'd wanted you to be anything special, truthfully. Just to sit there, quiet, living happily in your own little world, completely oblivious to the fact that there were more things in heaven and earth than your mind could ever comprehend…and there you went and turned me all around again.

  "You and Niwa…I thank you."

   He pulled his hand back and slowly tucked it into an interior coat pocket and pulled out an item to show her. "The very last one…" he spoke softly: it was a white feather, almost identical to the pinion Risa herself kept locked away in a drawer at home. He brought it to his lips and laid a single kiss on the vein, then placed it in her palm and wrapped her fingers around it.

   "Now…everything…everything of my old life…belongs to you. I hold nothing for myself."

   He paused for a moment, then remarked, "Today was St. White's Day, Risa, did you know that?" At the sudden change in topic, she was a bit startled, but nodded slowly. "Something white…for the person you love…and then, snow will come, or so the spell goes. Me…I've always thought that magic…should never meddle in the affairs of love, but some things can't be helped, I suppose…"

   He raised a hand to the heavens, drawing her gaze, and she looked up, momentarily blinded by the moon's brightness until something soft and wet landed gently on her eye, causing her to rub a glove over her face, trying to blink it away: a single snowflake. More followed, until the entire night sky seemed lit up with the moonlight dancing from glittering flake to glittering flake. She turned her gaze back to him.

   "For so long…" He clutched his chest with one hand, "There's been this hole in my heart…A void he made when he left. Even though I hated him so much, I never wanted to admit it, but he _was _a part of me, no matter how hated a part. And when that part was cut off and sealed away, he _did_ take some piece of me with him, and just like with Niwa…it _hurt_…" Eyes as cold and frozen as the arctic could not hide the tension which burned in his heart.

   "Harada Risa…will you help me fill the void?" A pause, and the world slowed. "Will you marry me?"

   Whoa…mental step back! "M—_marry_?" Risa whispered, voice tenuous as a spider's web, threatening to break and spill out all the emotions running wild inside her at the moment. She searched his face as she processed the question, seeking some clue as to whether or not he could really be _serious_ before reminding herself that this was Satoshi-kun: he's _always _serious.

   But right now…right now, behind that usual cool exterior of his, she could almost feel him shaking inside, nervous…_afraid_. Had he really meant to do this tonight—no, surely not! It had to have been just some rash gesture brought on by her nearly leaving him! Had he changed so much since they'd met that he would make this kind of life-altering decision so suddenly?

   Her questions and wondering, though, were halted when his voice cut the air, floating on the currents like the snowflakes wafting down from the heavens about them. "You're wondering at my motives…it isn't wrong of you…I'm wondering at them too. But, I know this, and it is enough for me: you found me first, when I wasn't even looking for you. And now that I've finally realized that it's _you_ who I needed, I…don't want to let you go…

   "It's…selfish, I know it is, looking at it. But that kind of person, I would walk though Hell to be with…and I _have_ walked through it. So now…I'm scared. So _scared_. Because, you don't understand—I've never been scared before, not really scared, not like this! Afraid of losing something, some_one_…I'm afraid, because it's become so natural, being with you.

   "Having lunch with you, walking home with you, visiting Niwa and your sister together…and I want…to move on…together…but I'm afraid, that by wanting to do so, I'll lose you—"

   "You won't!" she interrupted firmly and snatched up both his hands in hers, "Never! It's not selfish, and it's alright to be scared—but not because of me, because I'll never leave you! You will not run me off, you will not scare me off, and I'll stay by you—_yes_! I'll marry you, Hiwatari Satoshi!"

* * *

_Two Weeks Later_…

   Niwa Riku idly thumbed through the mail as she strolled into the kitchen, depositing the few bills into a specifically labeled receptacle before slumping into a chair at the table, sifting through the rest. Postcard from her parents—this time they were in Turkmenistan—advertisements, junk mail, just the usual.

   Beneath all the unwanted and unneeded junk mail was another postcard, but before she could examine it further, she looked up at her husband who was hovering over a pan of simmering vegetables, "Risa hasn't called lately, has she?"

   Turning around to face her he shook his head, "And winter vacation's almost over, isn't it? Harada-san didn't say where she was going?"

   It was now his wife's turn to shake her head in worry as she looked back down at the pile of letters she held in her hand. "No…I mean, I know she's an adult now, perfectly capable of handling herself in the real world—and if she wants to run off somewhere for the week, then that's her decision, but still…I would've liked for her to at least have told me where she was going. All she said was that she was going out of town for a few days and would call when she got back in. Didn't even give me a chance to ask where…"

   Daisuke turned his attentions back to his cooking now, shifting the onions around a bit, which let out a loud sizzle and smoked as they contacted the pan. "Have you checked with Hiwatari-kun? Chances are _he'd_ probably know where she was better than anyone else but you."

   She tossed a few magazines into the trash and began flipping through the remaining bits. "I don't—" she began, but dropped off, and her husband turned around curiously. In her hand was the final piece of mail: a postcard—not from her parents, from the look of it. On the back side was printed an image taken of a carnival completely lit up at night, gleaming brightly from across a snow-covered plain: the Midwinter Carnival the four friends had frequented in the past.

   "…Riku-san? What is it?" His wife's face grew pale, all the color draining from it as she flipped it over and read. "Riku-san?" At this, he quickly turned off the heat and rushed over to see what had caused her pallor. Peering over her shoulder, he read aloud, "'Hey guys, weather's awful down here, but the company's great. Riku—now we're even. Next challenge: Who'll be the first to have a baby? Love, Hiwatari Risa and Satoshi, P.S. Satoshi-kun and I are _determined_ to win this one.'"

   After a moment of silence, the two turned to one another, blinking stupidly, unable to completely process exactly what had they had just read. "Hiwatari…_Risa_?!"

   "You mean…they…Hiwatari-kun…and Harada-san…"

   Riku slapped her forehead, "Except she's not 'Harada-san' anymore…" Resting her aching head in her palms as she leaned onto the table, she continued, "Of all the people in the world…they were the _last_ two I would've expected to _ELOPE_!"

* * *

   Upon their return, the new Hiwatari couple was bombarded with questions—mostly from the female half of the Niwa couple. Riku snatched away Risa as soon as she got in touch with her once the newlyweds had returned home, and grilled her with just _how_ this had all transpired. Risa, though, always the garrulous one, had no problem excitedly spilling the details of just how the proposal had gone, how Satoshi wasn't one for a big wedding bash, and how they'd decided to simply elope and get married at the Mid-Winter Carnival, since it was, after all, where they'd had their first kiss.

   "That's so…_romantic_!" Riku beamed as her sister finished the tale over a cup of tea at a local eatery, and Risa couldn't help but giggle an agreement. "You couldn't tell from just looking at Hiwatari-kun that he could be that way—it's just like with Daisuke-kun!"

   "I know!" Risa added, "That only makes them cuter though!"

   "So, what're you two going to do now?" Riku pressed, taking another sip of her tea, and Risa smiled smugly.

   "Satoshi-kun's apartment's more than big enough for two people, so I'm moving out of the dormitory before the new semester starts. He's got his job down at the museum still, showing off Niwa-kun's works, and I'll be finishing up in the spring since the Human Resources Department requires less credit hours for a degree than other departments. After that…hmm, who knows? I've got a few contacts already set up for meetings, everything's looking great! Oh, Riku! It's just—just—"

   "Too good to be true, isn't it?" her sister remarked softly, and Risa nodded, "I feel that way too…with Daisuke-kun…It's almost like I'm afraid that none of this ever happened. That maybe this is some dream that seems to have spanned years, but really I'll just wake up and I'll still be in middle school, and he'll just be Niwa-kun again…but deep down, I know it's real—and that's what makes it all the more precious. We're _here_, Risa—we finally made it, to the life we've been dreaming about! With husbands we love, friends who love _us_, our _whole lives_ ahead of us, just waiting to be lived! It's here, it's now! It's…it's…"

   "_Amazing_…" Risa finished, and her twin couldn't help but agree.

* * *

   The beginning of the end of his happiness was not sudden. It did not arrive with banners and sirens announcing its arrival, but rather crept in undetected, while all were unawares. It insinuated itself in his household like a long-awaited guest, making itself at home, still unnoticed. Looking back, anyone would agree that there really was nothing which could have been done to stop it, so furtive was the "happening". This, however, did nothing to make it easier for him accept.

   Hiwatari Satoshi was down at the museum for his evening shift. Niwa Daisuke was at his studio, engaged in the last-minute touch-ups of his newest piece, _Elliot_, for the following week's showing. So their wives, being wives, got together that night for dinner, a movie, and of course—gossip.

   "And he snores too! But, no—listen, it's not really loud or an _annoying_ sound actually, it's kind of this cute little whine, like his throat isn't opened all the way and it's just barely forcing the air out, it's so adorable! What about Hiwatari-kun?"

   "Satoshi-kun? He sleeps like the dead! Not a peep will you hear from him once he's out—though, granted, he _is_ usually _quite_ worn out by the time I let him go to sleep—"

   "Risa!" her sister exclaimed in mock horror, and the younger twin giggled, displaying a slightly devious expression.

   "Oh come _on_ Riku! We're married women! We can talk about things like that now—how else do you think _this_ happened?" She gestured to her protruding midsection proudly, of which her shirt was having a hard time keeping covered. Nearly seven months prior, their little group had been rocked with the revelation that yes, the Hiwataris had won the unspoken contest between the two couples: Risa was pregnant.

   By the time May—and graduation—had rolled around, it was becoming startlingly obvious to any onlooker that the younger twin's stomach was starting to protrude just slightly, and between then and now—late July—she'd ballooned. Risa, being Risa, though, simply used this as an excuse to go shopping, and off she'd dragged her sister.

   "I can't believe it…in just two months…I'm going to be a mother—and you're going to be an aunt! Auntie Riku!" 

   Her sister smiled and laid a hand on Risa's. "A mother…think about it Risa…a child of your own, to love and care for…you'll get to watch it grow up, go to school, see it living the life _you_ lived not too long ago, hear it cry, hear it laugh, tuck it in at night, get hugs from it…I mean, I always felt kind of mad that Mama and Papa were always away, when we needed them most, but when I think about what it means to have a child…I think I pity them more than anything, because they didn't get that from us. Ne?" Risa squeezed her hand back.

   "I understand that, Riku…" The two lapsed into silence as Risa slowly rose and half-walked, half-waddled into the kitchen, refilling her glass and leaning onto the counter, taking a moment to catch her breath. Man, if pregnancy always felt like this, no _wonder_ her mother had stopped after having her and Riku. She was almost out of breath from a simple walk across the room and up a step into the kitchen area.

   "Risa?" her sister called from the living room, twisting on the couch to see her better, "You alright?" The deep panting could be heard from across the room, but the worry was waved off as the mother-to-be slowly made her way back to the couch and slumped into it, all but exhausted.

   "I'm fine, I'm fine…"

   "…Are you sure? You look a little pale—do you need some aspirin or something? Daisuke-kun keeps a bottle in the cabinet in the bathroom, I can go get some for you—"

   "No, really, I'm perfectly fine!" She made a fist as if to prove her strength, "Good to go. Now—" She leaned over and reached into her bag and pulled out two very large, very thick books and slammed them down on the coffee table with considerable effort, "—help me pick out a name!"

* * *

   He didn't get the message until nearly one in the morning, when he was dragging his tired body into the apartment, eyelids sagging with exhaustion as he crawled into his bedroom. Peeling back the covers while sinking into sleep, though, he couldn't miss the unmistakable absence of another warm body on the other side. Where was his wife?

   Sleep dropping in priority for the moment, he blinked in the darkness, trying to focus on her side—she was most definitely not in their bed. Had he perhaps missed her sleeping on the living room couch? A quick check of the den assured him that this wasn't the case, for in the empty room only the television flashed an infomercial silently, temporarily blinding him. He flipped on lights, even called her name, to no avail—she didn't appear to be in the house at all. Where on earth could she be at such an hour?

   He padded in socked feet over to the phone to call up her sister in the hopes that they'd gone out that night and she'd simply slept over, when the blinking red light of the answering machine caught his eye. Frowning, he pressed the play button.

   "You have one unheard message. First message," the monotone female voice spoke loudly over the receiver. After a moment, though, this voice was replaced by a more frantic, more urgent crackling one: Niwa's. "Hiwatari-kun? Hiwatari-kun! If you're there, pick up _now_." A pause, as he no doubt waited to see if Satoshi was there, "Alright, you must still be on your shift—I couldn't get through to the museum, though. Listen, it's 11:45 right now, just—as _soon_ as you get this message get down to the Azumano Hospital downtown, and hurry. It's Risa-san, she—just _hurry_, Hiwatari-kun!"****

   But Satoshi did not hear the end of the message; he was already in his car, squealing out of his driveway.

* * *

   The hospital was not crowded by any means—as it was such a late (or was that early?) hour, most of the patients had by now been settled into beds for the night or sent home, healthy once more. The only staff on hand was the meager night crew of a few doctors, nurses, and desk officials. So the sight of a wild eyed man bursting through the door in the dead of night and scrambling up to the desk demanding to know where "Hiwatari Risa" was being treated was a bit startling to say the least.

   "Sir, _please_ calm down or I'm going to have a lot more trouble locating her—Hiwatari, you said?" He nodded, breathing heavily, and the woman behind the counter thumbed through a few pages before her finger settled on his wife's name, "They have her as being assigned to room 343, but she's—" Too late. He was already sprinting down the hallway.

   As he rounded a corner his eyes flashed when he sighted two familiar forms hunched over on a bench at the end of the hall. "Niwa!" he called, only to be loudly shushed by a passing nurse. Daisuke's head shot to attention and he swiftly stood to greet his friend, though his grave face was anything _but_ glad to see him. "Niwa—what happened? I just got your message—where is she?" Daisuke's eyes fell. "Niwa? Where. Is. Risa?" He stamped out the final words in a near-growl.

   Instead of answering, he merely turned to his side, by which Riku was now standing, face red from crying. "She…she called me around 11:30…" she began softly, "She was crying, saying her stomach was hurting and didn't know what to do, and her breath was short and…Daisuke-kun and I went and picked her up and drove her to the hospital as quickly as we could. And they just whisked her off and started asking us questions as soon as we got here, but we—we couldn't answer them really, we had no idea what was going on…" She trailed off, tears clouding her vision as she clung to her husband for comfort.

   "They took her to surgery, Hiwatari-kun," Daisuke stated bluntly, face serious, and Satoshi's eyes widened in shock.

   "S—_surgery_?! What's _wrong_ with her?! You don't even know why she's here, and you just let them put her under a knife without a second thought?!" he cried.

   "Hiwatari-san, I presume?" came a new voice from behind him, an older, deeper male voice. "The husband of Hiwatari Risa-san?" Satoshi whirled around, suddenly faced with a short, balding man, dressed in a long white, immaculate lab coat, and scribbling something on a clipboard. His tiny eyes seemed disproportionate to his rather round midsection, and they peered up at him from behind thin wire frames much like the ones Satoshi himself used to wear before he finally succumbed to contacts.

   Stricken dumb, he could only muster the strength to nod for a few moments before snapping from his stupor. "Wh—where is she? Where is Risa?"

   The doctor held up a hand to calm him, "Hiwatari-san, your wife…is being cleaned up. We just performed a Caesarian section on her—you're familiar with the procedure, I'm sure?" Satoshi nodded. "I thought as much. When she was brought in, she was suffering not only from an acute respiratory attack, but had been forced into labor, nearly one month premature. A coughing attack had rubbed raw a section of her lungs which became infected, leading to even more complications. From her medical history—" He gestured to the tablet he held, "it was apparent to us that she already had a history of respiratory problems stemming from early childhood, making her even more susceptible to these kinds of infections. Add to that the new stress of childbirth, and it was apparent that surgery was the only path to take at this juncture."

   "But where is she _now_?"

   "She's being wheeled back to her room at the moment. She's still under anesthesia right now and will not wake for some time. Once the attendants get her settled in, you may go and see her. The baby is being cared for in ICU at the moment, and we'll set her up beside the mother some time within the next few days."

   The baby…he'd completely forgotten about the baby, "How…how is she?" his voice was slightly calmer now that he was sure his wife was fine.

   "Both are stable—for the moment. Had the pregnancy gone on uninterrupted, I couldn't have projected a healthier pair. But your new daughter is dangerously underweight right now, and we're rushing to get her the best care possible." He gestured to room 343 to their right. "The aides should be wheeling your wife in any moment now. For now I'll have to excuse myself. If you should need anything, please have the nurses at the front desk page Yamagi-sensei. Good evening." The short doctor bowed out and turned, walking down the hall before disappearing through a set of double doors.

   Satoshi stared blankly at the floor before slipping onto the cushioned bench in a coma-like state, with Daisuke and Riku hovering over him worriedly. "…Hiwatari-kun?" No reply. "Are you… going to be alright?" Still nothing. "We need to be getting back home…call us if there's any news, will you?" Again, no reply. Casting worried glances to each other, the Niwas returned home for the evening, leaving Satoshi alone with his ever-darkening thoughts.

* * *

   It was starting to rain as Daisuke and Riku climbed into their car, wiping off the light drizzle that had settled onto their exposed skin, and the two made the journey home in stark silence, neither knowing quite what to say, as both were still in shock as to the evening's events.

   Was this what had been bothering Risa a while back? Riku recalled now with startling clarity the few times they'd gone out to lunch together, when her sister would seem to slow for a moment, short of breath, and then wave it off as nothing. When she'd broken down in a harsh coughing fit, claiming it was simply that something she'd just eaten had gone down the wrong tube, momentarily choking her. All those times…could she have done something to stop this from happening—a premature birth and a room in the ICU, from a _cough_!

   She closed her eyes as the car sped along the highway and leaned her forehead against the glass, recalling a conversation the sisters had had only a few days before…

   "Kara!" Riku had looked up, blinking dumbly at her twin who had just shouted out the name as if having some sudden epiphany. "It'd be perfect, if the baby's a girl!"

   Riku narrowed her eyes, "Wasn't that the name you gave to that ragged old rabbit of yours that Grandma Makieda gave you back when we were little?" Risa nodded brightly, greeted only with a bout of eye-rolling, "You're seriously thinking of naming your child after a stuffed _bunny_?"

   "And why not? Kara's just as good a name as any! And it's very elegant too, the way it simply rolls off the tongue…Kara…Ka…ra…Kaaaaaaara…" She amused herself for the next five minutes by playing with the syllables in varying ways, while Riku pushed herself up and went to replenish their snacks.

   "Ne…Risa…" she called from the kitchen.

   "What?" she returned, idly flipping through the book of baby names once more, paying little attention to her sister.

   Riku filled a cup with water and downed it in one gulp. "I…I think…"

   As she faltered, Risa looked up from the book, now curious. Her elder sister had always been the one who was best at expressing herself, the more articulate of the two. And here she was stammering… "Riku? What's wrong?"

   Glass of water in hand, she wandered back in, taking a seat on the far end of the couch opposite Risa. "Daisuke-kun and I…"

   Risa's face twisted with worry the more her sister stalled, but after a moment she brightened with realization, "Ah, _I_ see what's going on…"

   Startled that her normally dense sister had already picked up on what Riku was trying to discuss, she stumbled over her words, "You—what? You do? But—"

   "You and Niwa-kun are having trouble in bed, aren't you?"

   "**_WHAT_**_?!_"

   Risa nodded sagely, then gripped her sister's arms, speaking in a serious voice, "It's alright, Oneesama. You can talk to me about this—I'm here for you, that's what sisters are for! And…if you and Niwa-kun are…well, having less than stellar performances at night, I want to help you through this. I mean, if you need some tips or something, I'm sure Satoshi-kun would be more than happy to—"

   "_THAT'S NOT WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT!_"

   "Really, it's not that big a deal, Riku! _All_ couples go through something like this at some point in their relationship, and you and Niwa-kun are no exce—"

   "_I SAID THAT'S NOT IT!_"

   "_Riku_," her sister chided, "Stop interrupting me. Now, running away from a problem like this will _only_ make it worse—and once you get through this, trust me, your sex lives will be much better than bef—"

   "_I'M TRYING TO TELL YOU I'M **PREGNANT**, YOU IDIOT!_"

   "…"

   "…"

   "…pregnant?"

   Riku huffed angrily, face flushed with embarrassment. "If you would have let me _explain_ to you earlier before jumping to far-fetched conclusions—"

   "_Really_! I mean, obviously if you're pregnant then Niwa-kun and you certainly don't appear to be having any problems at all!" Riku flushed darker. "So, you really are?!" A nod. "Riku—that's—that's _great_! You're gonna be a mother too! We're gonna be mothers together!"

   The flush on her cheeks paled a bit, and a tiny smile could be detected tugging up at the corners of her mouth as she was pulled into a great hug. Suddenly, though, she pushed away and made Risa look her in the eye, "Wait—wait. You have to _absolutely _promise me you won't tell Daisuke-kun! I…want it to be a surprise…when I'm ready to tell him…" Risa smiled knowingly. "Do you promise?"

   "Oneesama…I will die before I tell 'Daisuke-kun' your dirty little secret."

   "'Dirty little secret'?! What's so dirty about it?"

   Risa giggled as if she were still fourteen. "Oh, you know _that_…Trouble in bed, yeah _right_…"

   "_RISA_!"

   "Riku-san?" Daisuke prodded his wife's sleeping form. "Riku-san…we're home."

   Riku slowly stirred from the dream, a hand unconsciously covering her stomach. Risa's words those few days ago…_"Oneesama…I will die before I tell 'Daisuke-kun' your dirty little secret."_

   Did she realize now how close she was to making good on that promise?

* * *

   _"We're sorry_…_"_

   No…

   _"The infection's worsened and spread_…_the antibiotics aren't having any effect—we suspect she's contracted the rarer form of this year's influenza virus, Fiji-A-H5N3_…_"_

   Liars…

   _"Hiwatari-san_…_she can't_…_she can't keep up like this, and we simply don't have the capabilities to fight for her_…_"_

   Capabilities? _Don't have the capabilities_? 

   _"Your daughter's recovering beautifully, I've not seen a stronger premie in my twenty-five years working as head physician here, but your wife_…_"_

   But my wife…?

_   "We're sorry_… _It's killing her."_

* * *

   She looked just like an angel. 

   Her skin had lost its color, as if the pigment had been drained from her face, her neck, her arms, until she was as cold and seemingly lifeless on the outside as he had once been on the inside. In the week since she'd been rushed to the hospital, she'd only been able to slip in and out of drug-induced sleep, doctors claiming she needed rest to heal.

   That was what they said, however, until she slipped into the coma in which she now resided. He hadn't even been able to have a conversation with her—the closest thing they'd had to one was one afternoon when she'd cracked open her eyes, smiled wearily at him, and closed them again. It was at that point that he first felt that something wasn't right.

   The hospital bed was settled low to the ground, catching all the moon's rays and playing them across her face, giving her a sidereal look, as if she didn't belong on earth but rather in some celestial choir. Satoshi was seated beside her, cradling a limp cold hand in his own, while on the other side baby Kara slept contentedly in what was for all intents and purposes a plastic cage.

   The EKG by her head was the only sign that patient #007846311, Hiwatari Risa-sama as indicated by the name-plate on the door, was even still alive. Every now and then she might let out a shuddery breath, followed by a hacking coughing bout, but other than that, she was as lifeless as the monitor itself. It gave a feeble "beep" every second or two, and the entire room was dark, save for the few beams of moonlight and the eerie green glow the machine gave off as it peaked, signaling that Risa's heart was still beating, still trying to survive, however faintly and futilely.

   Sitting there, in the room with his new family, his dearest ones, Satoshi finally found the time to reflect on just how far he'd come since he first got involved with Daisuke, Riku, and Risa; just how very far he'd come…to get here.

   It'd been seven years—_seven_. One-third of his life. And most of them, even then, had been spent dwelling on the past, on the horrors it contained and the marks it had left, though Risa worked her hardest to drag him forcibly into the light of the present: a new life, a chance to start over. His whole life he'd been isolated. Parents whom he'd never seen, a step-father whom he saw almost as rarely, further cut off by his mind, by the educational system, from children his own age…and ultimately cut off from anything and everything by his Hikari curse—by _Krad_. The demon who would not share him with anyone. 

   _"My own_…_you are my own, and no one else may look at you, my Satoshi-sama_…_"_ the grating golden voice still chanted in his mind.

   But the warmth of these three beckoned him closer and closer after the sealing, into their circle of friendship—and in some cases more than friendship.

   He spoke, his voice a ragged whisper, as he stroked the back of Risa's hand, gently fingering the delicate bones of her hand before lifting it to his lips, breathing into it. "You were…such a brat back then…" he muttered lightly, though the comatose-Risa couldn't possibly hear him. "You were…I can't say it…but then, you never wanted me to dwell on the past did you? So never mind…it doesn't matter what you were. You _are_…you are…everything to me now. My everything. _My_ Risa…My Hiwatari Risa…" He opened his eyes slightly and lifted them to look across the bed and invited his unconscious wife to look as well. "And she is mine too, my Hiwatari Kara…she is _ours_, so…so you…

   "_You can't leave!_ You can't leave me, Risa!" He squeezed her hand again and stood over her, leaning so that he was towering over her chest. "Do you hear me? Don't you even _think_ about it—you said you wouldn't, don't you remember? You _promised _me! me! You…promised…me…

   "Don't leave me all alone…_please_…" A single tear broke free and dripped down his pale cheek, flushed red with anger and sorrow.

   The EKG flatlined.

* * *

   "No…" Riku whispered in shock as she flung open the door to the room, ears now assaulted with the full force of the incessant single beep of the EKG which signaled the lack of a pulse. Daisuke was behind her, peering in, equally stricken, and before both of them Satoshi seemed frozen in horror, mechanically stepping back and shaking his head.

   Riku rushed forward, shoving him out of the way as a great lump began to form in her throat, mangling her words, "No…no no…Risa—Risa wake up. Wake up _now_!" She leaned over and grabbed her twin's thin shoulders, pulling her upwards and shaking her lightly as if trying to rouse a determined sleeper. "Risa! Open your eyes! Wake up, wake up!" When this too failed, she did the only thing she could think of which would surely rouse her from her senses and slapped the smooth flesh of Risa's cheek, a red raw spot on a pale backdrop. 

   "Wake up, _wake up_! _RISA_! _Risa_…please…" She could scream no more and collapsed on top of the body, sobbing muffled pleas into the fabric of her hospital robe, back heaving as Daisuke tried to comfort her, even though he too simply wanted to break down with her.

   Unnoticed by the Niwas, Satoshi was ever so slowly backing out of the room, head shaking back and forth in abject refusal to accept it…

   Why…_why_…why was it always _him_…? Everything, every evil thing that could happen in a person's life…why did it always happen to _him_?! **_WHY_**?! It was like he was simply some divine plaything that whatever gods were watching over the earth liked to play with, testing him to see how he'd react to the most miserable situations they could envision for humanity.

   Take away his childhood, take away his innocence, take away his friends, take away his family, take away _anything and everything he ever loved_…

   And what do you get, the gods ask. 

   You get Hiwatari Satoshi, a battered shell that once was human.

   _It serves you right, my Satoshi-sama_…

* * *

   She had been the thread which held the two families together—the link forged in the absence of Dark and Krad. For from the moment of the encoding of the curse into the DNA of the two lines, the clans were destined to be forever linked, yet never coupled.

   In order to maintain a balance of the curses, a thin invisible bond was formed between the Niwas and Hikaris. As Dark was fated to surface in the mind of a fourteen-year-old Niwa male, and Krad in a fourteen-year-old Hikari male, the threat of a male in one line and a female in the other loomed ominously. Yet somewhere in the maze of genetics, chromosomes, DNA, the lines were linked in gender: a male in the Niwa line would always be faced with a male in the Hikari, the same with females, thus ensuring that the lines would never cross, and that there would always be a Dark to fight Krad, and a Krad to thwart Dark.

   The sealing of nearly seven years prior to Risa's death, though, completely destroyed this linkage, allowing something to happen which hadn't occurred for over three hundred years: a female was born to the Hikari clan, and a male to the Niwas.

   It was now five years after the death of Hiwatari Risa at the tender age of twenty-one. Her passing left an enduring mark on all who knew her, but most of all on her sister, Daisuke, and Satoshi.

   In the days following, a funeral service was held, which many from their childhood and college days attended, wishing to pay their last respects to the bubbly cheery Harada twin, who truly seemed too alive to be dead.

   Satoshi did not go.

   He retreated like a monk into a cloister, taking his new daughter into self-exile with him. Completely distraught over Risa's death, he raised the child alone, his precious Kara, cut off from Daisuke and Riku. Though the Niwas tried valiantly to get Satoshi to open up and let them help him—after all, she was their niece as well as his daughter—they failed. He returned no phone calls, refused all their visits, and dodged them anywhere they might by chance run into each other.

   And it was because of this, that Satoshi was quite surprised to learn of the existence of Niwa Daiichi.

   Kindergarten was something that could not be studied in books for single fathers, this much he now understood. While he'd taken over the role of mother as well as father for the past five years, studying as much on the subject of child-rearing as he could, nothing had prepared him for this kind of environment: loud children running around everywhere, toys strewn about the room, hair pulling, name calling, and he didn't even _want_ to know what that smell was nor where it was coming from.

   But he wasn't the only parent there for his child's first day of school—nor was he the only one who was somewhat unsettled by the seemingly lawless environment of the classroom. All around him were other parents, hesitant to let their children go off to play with others, but knowing they must, and he turned his eyes back to Kara.

   The girl was a picture in a neat pleated blue skirt and vest, long golden locks pulled back into a ponytail topped off with a bright red ribbon which bounced atop her head as she chatted animatedly with a group of girls her age before settling down at a table to color. Behind the girls, he noticed, a small group of four or five boys seemed to be planning some joke to play on the girls, for not a moment later the leader of their group—a lanky boy with a crop of tousled rust-colored hair—dashed forward, with his cronies at his heels, and snatched up a box of crayons the girls had been using.

   A new crop of fresh wails broke out as the girls complained at the action, jumping to regain their lost colors. The ring-leader, however, stole a chance and jumped onto a tabletop, loudly proclaiming in a childish cackle, "I've got the colors! All women are _mine_! Haha ha hahaaa!!!" How exactly this made all women property of the boy, Satoshi was not quite sure.

   "_Niwa Daiichi_! Get down from there this _instant_ young man!" came a furious female voice from across the room, and Satoshi's breath caught in his throat as his eyes darted from one side to the other, seeking out the source. This wasn't needed, though, for the mother of the boy stomped forward and jerked the child from his perch, returning the crayons and tossing Kara a warm smile.

   Niwa Riku.

   But—if she was here, then that meant—

   "Daisuke-kun, _please_ talk some sense into your son!" the wife loudly pleaded as she dragged Daiichi kicking and screaming over to the side. "Honestly, what have I told you about taking other people's things?"

   "Mooooom….lemme go! I wanna go play! Lemme go, Mom! I was having fun!"

   A soft chuckling and gentle reprimand followed a moment later as the boy was sent back to his playmates, only to have the child once more commence with teasing the girls with aid from his friends.

   It didn't take long for one of the last people Satoshi wanted to see to realize that he too was here, on the first day of kindergarten. After a moment's shock, Daisuke walked over, confident that the Hikari man couldn't avoid him here.

   "So…that's what she grew up to look like, is it?"

   Satoshi kept his eyes facing forward, focused only on his daughter for the time being as he monitored her play—as well as now monitoring the Niwa boy as well. "A bit obvious now, isn't it?" he retorted shortly.

   Daisuke, though, being the ever forgiving and bearing Niwa that he was, merely smiled and shook his head, turning his sights also to his child. "They grow up so fast, don't they?"

   Unable to bear the remark, he turned to his old friend, "Is that your idea of a conversation starter, Niwa? 'They grow up so fast'?" He sighed with a loud huff. "As corny as ever, aren't you?"

   Smile unconsciously growing wider at how they seemed to have slipped back into their old manner of conversing, Daisuke replied, "Corny, you say? You can come up with a better observation, then?"

   Staring at the child…Daiichi…whom he'd only just realized existed, he slowly nodded. "Niwa…in him…I can see Dark…That child's mannerisms, his expressions, his attitude…you haven't lost him by far."

   Unable to mask his surprise, Daisuke's mouth opened slightly, resembling a gaping fish from the shock of having his alter ego mentioned after nearly five years apart, and after nearly twelve without said alter ego. He quickly recovered, though, and turned his own eyes to Kara, smiling fondly as if remembering some long-forgotten memory.

   "And in her, Hiwatari-kun…in her, I see…Risa-san…and you haven't lost her either."

   Satoshi did not reply.

* * *

_Present Day_

   "And that's…about all…since then, Daiichi and Kara-chan have been in the same schools, grade school, and now middle school…Hiwatari-kun is still very distant, but he at least doesn't avoid us as much anymore. Now it's…I guess it's just like it was before—I mean, before we became friends really. He'll nod to us in passing, still showcases a few of my works down at the museum, though I have my own agent now, but we never see Kara outside of her school or anything like that…I doubt she even knows she has an aunt and uncle."

   Daisuke heaved a great sigh as he finished the long recounting of the past twenty years, casting a tired eye up to the grandfather clock beside the fireplace: nearly 11:30. "Dark?" he pressed, unsure if the phantom thief inside his son's body had heard him.

   "He says…thank you," was the hesitant reply from Daiichi's mouth. "Thank you for telling him what he missed, but…he doesn't want to talk about it anymore."

   "I see…" Daisuke nodded, "Then, why don't you two go ahead and go on to bed for the night—I know it's been tough, but Dark understands this. School tomorrow."

   "Wha—_school_?!" Daiichi practically screeched, pushing himself up off the couch in protest at the unthinkable suggestion. "You think I can go back after what happened yesterday?! I mean—what about Hiwatari-san? She'll see me and remember what happened, when I—when I—did that thing and changed into Darth!"

   "It's 'Dark'," his father corrected. "And I wouldn't worry too much about that—Hiwatari-kun will have his own way of dealing with that, I trust. You're going to school tomorrow, ruined reputation or not. So I would suggest going to bed now so that you can rest as much as possible. It's not going to be easy sorting all this out."

   Daiichi had to hang his head in defeat in the end, and wound up climbing the stairs, sulking the whole way. 

   _'Why'd you have to come to me anyway? I thought Dad said something about you being sealed or some crap like that.'_

   _'You and me both kid_…_I'm as clueless as you are as to why I'm here with you. Thought I'd bit the dust a long time ago after Daisuke.'_ The voice in his head came across with a tone of forced cheer, as if he were trying to shield Daiichi from any painful emotions Dark was experiencing at the moment, and somewhere inside he actually felt bad for being so harsh up until now with the new presence in his mind.

   _'Look_…_I_…_I'm sorry that_…_ you had to find out all this stuff, about what'd happened while you were gone.'_ The voice was silent for a moment, though if it was from shock or from sulking, Daiichi didn't know. _'I mean, well, don't take it any special way or anything, alright? Just_…_if Dad missed you that much, you can't have been that bad a guy, could you?'_

   There was a further moment of silence before a soft tenor resonated deep inside the mind of the newest Niwa, _'_…_Thanks kid_…_you don't really seem like a half bad winghost now,' _and his mind was flooded with a rainbow prism of gratitude. Suddenly he seemed a bit happier, like some weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

   Then he realized something that sent that weight crashing back down: "Wait a minute…Hiwatari-san's my _cousin_?!"

_fin chapter five_

* * *

_Post Chapter Notes_: FINALLY! It ENDS! Hah! I told you, see? Now, for tidbits: I took the titles of _Menou_ and _Eliot_ from the characters themselves—I can just picture Daisuke painting scenes from his escapades with Dark that had significant impact on him, can't you? The "St. White's Day" thing actually plays a big role in the manga, very cool. Oh, and the scene with Daiichi and Kara in kindergarten: there's actually a scene in the manga where Daisuke is picturing Dark in his mind, and what he sees is this maniacal womanizing freak who's proclaiming, "All women belong to ME!", and it was just too cute not to include. Ready for the real plot to begin? Then strap in! Next time: Daiichi goes back to school—with Dark tagging along of course, and enter Krad! As always, let me know your thoughts, in review form of course!—sage


	6. Meeting Amongst the Rooftops

_Author's Notes_: Finally, we're getting the ball rolling (again?) on this story. Come to think of it, this will be the first chapter since the opening one without gratuitous flashbacks taking up the whole chapter—and hopefully this will set a shining example for any and all subsequent chapters. I will make every effort to avoid flashbacks that stretch four chapters in the future, though I don't believe I'll be needing any more of those. So, on with the Daiichi goodness!

Also, for anyone interested, I've uploaded pics to my website of Daiichi and Kara, aged 14, just because I felt like it. For anyone unfamiliar with the details, Daiichi is an actual anime-based character, so his design isn't much changed from his single appearance (though I did age him a bit since he looks to be nine or ten in the anime), while Kara is completely my creation. Email me for the link because apparently I can't display html addresses in here...

* * *

_Chapter Six: Meeting Amongst the Rooftops_

   "Papa…?" the tiny muffled voice of Hiwatari Kara, age five-and-a-half tested from her perch curled up against her father's chest as the two lounged in the over-stuffed chair in front of the bookcase full of ancient literature. It was very nearly the child's bedtime, and she was already having trouble keeping her eyelids from drooping down on top of her sparkling blue eyes—much more alive and warm than her father's infamous ice pits.

   Satoshi pulled his head back at an awkward angle to look down at his daughter, "What is it?"

   She peered up and snuggled even more into his chest before wrapping her short arms around him as best she could, then closed her eyes. "Papa…what was Mama like?"

   His eyes unfocused, and everything became a blur. Laying a feather-soft kiss upon the crown of her head, lips lost in the smooth flaxen locks, he began to speak softly so as not to disturb her as she drifted off to sleep listening to the soothing sound of her father's voice. "Mama was…very, very special to me. She was kind-hearted and caring, and was always smiling at the world…she was funny and a little absent-minded, but she could be quite smart when she needed to be…"

   "…Was she pretty…?" the soft voice asked, heavy with sleep, tiny mouth opening in a great yawn, eyes completely closed.

   "Very much so…" he continued, then stared down at his daughter and began slowly stroking the child's hair as he rocked her to sleep, "Just like you…my Kara-chan…"

   "…'night…Pa…pa…"

   Smiling with the half-weary, half-grateful face that only a parent can bear, he silently wished her good night as well, then eased himself and her up out of the seat as he carried her off to bed.

   And in the back of his mind as he climbed the stairs to her loft, a grating voice from long ago began twitching verbally.

   _'Oh no, no, no, Satoshi-sama. This simply will not do. Your everything? Your everything? Satoshi-sama, the owned cannot own anything. And you are mine, have you forgotten that? Has it been so long? She cannot be yours, for you_…_you are all my own.'_

   Satoshi shot up straight in his bed, sheets sticking to his sweat soaked body, and shook his head to clear the images of the dream.

   Something was churning in his stomach and initiating his gag reflex in such a way that it was almost unbearable—he flung away the sheets and padded as quickly and softly as he could in his pajama bottoms to the toilet down the hall, and just leaned over the bowl for the next ten minutes, panting as if he'd just run a mile. Slowly the churning subsided and his breathing slowed.

   _'Still having those bad dreams, are we, Satoshi-sama?'_

   His eyes widened for a moment before the memory of the previous afternoon's happening came crashing back to his body full force, and he felt the rising tide of vomit once more knock on his throat. That's right…he was back. He was back, but he wasn't fully manifested yet…No, as long as Satoshi watched himself, he might even be able to keep him at bay for at least until something about why this all had happened again was sorted out.

   _'Keep me at bay? Is that what you intend to try and do?' _He could almost see Krad standing before him, shaking his head at Satoshi's naïveté, mane of gold swishing back and forth like some fluid pendulum glinting in the moonlight. _'When will you learn? All your ancestors accepted me, what do you think makes you so special? I've come back for you, though_…_I waited for you, thinking I'd been abandoned, sealed, locked away from my favorite Hikari child forever_…_And joyous day—I was mistaken.'_

   "Favorite?" Satoshi scoffed in a raspy whisper. Needless to say it was not a position he was delighted to hold. In fact, any position which involved Krad anywhere near him was bad. "If only I could learn whatever it was about my ancestors you hated…"

   _'Would you really like to know, Satoshi-sama?' _the voice tinkled, an almost amused tone echoing through the darkness in the hallway—a voice he alone could hear. _'Would it make you happy, to know why you are so very very dear to me?'_

   "Enlighten me…" was the monotone reply, bouncing off the walls.

   _'It is because, Satoshi-sama_…_because your feelings more than any others' before you_…_they are so delicious, you are a veritable feast to me. And I simply want to devour you whole.'_

   "Then _bite me_," was the cold retort, and Krad could only smile and watch as the only remaining male Hikari dragged himself back to his room and crumpled in a heap onto his futon, headed for more restless dreams.

* * *

   _'Ne_…_ne, Daiichi.'_ All he was returned was the silent darkness of the Niwa boy's mind.  _'Oi, kid!'_ Still no reply, all Dark could register was the steady peak and fall of the child's mental waves, not erratic, but paced—he was _sleeping_. 

   Of course, this was not the state Dark needed him in. His internal clock was still set to "Daisuke time", and having to go through the trouble every school morning of trying to stay asleep while Daisuke muddled along his daily life had ingrained in the phantom thief the timetable of a modern-day eighth grader. And his clock was telling him Daiichi was dangerously close to being late for school if he didn't wake up and put on some speed.

   He sighed heavily and shook his head. The boy would hate him for this later, but something had to be done—he'd borne the brunt of Daisuke's anger at him for securing his body while he was sleeping before, Daiichi would be no different.

   Sending out tendrils of his seizing magic to probe the boy's thoughts, he quickly located the appropriate terminals and eased aside Daiichi's own neural connectors, a simple task with him in this unconscious state. Dark connected himself with the same ease one might experience when sliding into the driver's seat of a new car. After a few adjustments, he tested the new surroundings.

   Geez this kid was short.

   He was simply lying there in the loft bed—one much like Daisuke had had as a child, skin twitching involuntarily as he soaked in the sensation of the smooth cloth from the sheets rubbing against Daiichi's bare legs and arms. He could sense _everything_.

   The barely-there feeling of the individual hairs brushing across the forehead, sending tingling shivers directly through the skull into the foreign being controlling the mind. The cool breeze drifting up from the coastline through the half-open window (Riku's doing?) carrying the scent of the salty sea mixed with the morning market into the quiet room.

   Wait—why was he waking the boy up this way again? Ah, right: school. 

   Still getting acquainted with the gangly body which was somehow very similar to Daisuke's and yet completely different at the same time, it took nearly two minutes just to get the body to sit up erect, and another minute to swing the legs over to the ladder. Maneuvering down was a feat in itself, and only after they'd descended into the stable floor did Dark think about what tragedy might have befallen them had he missed a step in the new body. Ah well, what did it matter, he was down, wasn't he?

   As he drunkenly ambled out the door into the bathroom around the corner, he could feel Daiichi's mental waves become slightly more erratic, indicating he was ending his sleep cycle and dangerously close to waking up and being freaked out at once again being shoved from control over his body. Dark scrambled the body into the bathroom and stood at the sink, arms stretched out to balance the body against the sink. He clenched his eyes shut and prepared for the boy to stir and panic.

   _'Daiichi_…_oi, Daiichi. Niwa, wake up kid.' _This time, his efforts were more successful, which was fortunate. The strain of prodding the child while simultaneously keeping the body under his control was trying on his mind, and already he was losing his grip.

   _'Wha_…_who_…_'_ Even his mental voice was groggy and sleep-laden, the Niwa boy having not quite fully woken up yet, just now rousing. In his astral form the phantom thief could feel Daiichi unconsciously trying to reinsert himself into control of his facilities. _'Wha—why can't I—'_

   "—move my mouth—oh, wait…" His eyes blurred in and out of focus as he adjusted them to the harsh artificial light of the bathroom. "…Why am I in the bathroom?" He shifted his gaze from one end of the room to the other, then back to himself in the mirror. "…Sleepwalking?"

    _'Heh, you wish kid.'_ Daiichi jumped nearly three feet in the air, heart leaping up into his throat, before landing on his rear-end on the floor with a loud thud. _'Ah ah, no time to sit around, Dai-chan. You're already late.'_

   "Late…?" He scanned his memory—so much had happened in the past twenty-four hours that he knew something important was being overlooked, but what… "Crap! _School_!"

* * *

   "Great—what—am—I going—to do—about—Hiwa—tari-san—though?!" The question was short and dotted with panting gasps as Daiichi charged up the hill atop which Azumano No. 2 was situated, feet slapping loudly against the concrete as he hurried to beat the morning bell. "I'll just—have—to—avoid her—until—the end—of school—then figure—out what—I can—do…" He slowed to a halt at the top of a crest and bent over in two, hands resting on his knees as he allowed himself a moment to breathe.

   "It's all _your_ fault anyways," he continued after a moment, ambling towards the main gates at a more normal pace. Students mingled around in groups in the front courtyard area, and Daiichi lowered his voice. "If you hadn't come out in front of her then I could've gotten a decent night's sleep last night and wouldn't be pulling my hair out about this now!"

   _'Hey, don't pile this all on me kid—she's your love interest, not mine. I only do what the DNA tells me to.'_ Daiichi could almost see the phantom thief smiling smugly from inside his head—an image he'd become familiar with the previous night when his father had taken down a dusty photo album full of newspaper clippings with headlines like _Kaitou Dark Manages to Nab the Moonlight Mask! _or _Police Still On Manhunt for Dark After Losing the Angel's Love Potion_. Most of the images had been blurred over time, but apparently Emiko-obaachan had taken it upon herself to slide in a few gratuitous headshots of the supernatural being.

   "Stupid DNA…" he mumbled dejectedly, kicking a bit of trash across the yard as he trudged forward with his hands stuffed angrily in his pockets. "Stupid family line, stupid Dad for being a Niwa, stupid phantom thieves, stupid—"

   "Ah! Niwa-kun!" a cheery female voice called from behind him, and Daiichi instinctively turned around, completely unprepared for the sight of—

   "Hi-Hi-Hi-Hiwatari-san!" The name fell from his mouth in a flood of syllables, and he successfully managed to trip over the first few, rendering him slightly goofy in his classmate's eyes. He pulled back as soon as he realized who'd called him and began searching for a possible escape route. Unfortunately, though, none were available at the moment, so he puffed out his chest and stood ready to take whatever upbraiding was surely coming. He bent forward in a low bow and rushed out, "I'm sorry! About yesterday! I'm very, _very_ sorry, Hiwatari-san!"

   Shoulder-length golden locks bouncing as she slowed to a stop in front of him, Kara peered down curiously at the boy nearly bent in two in front of her. "Niwa-kun…what are…you _doing_?" she asked, a bit embarrassed at being regarded this way when she could think of no reason for Daiichi to do so. "Please—get up!"

   Confused, Daiichi raised his head, his fearful expression slowly fading from his features. "You're…not mad? About…about yesterday?" he tested tentatively, straightening back up. A thought occurred to him—maybe she was just _pretending_ like nothing happened! Ah, what a wonderful girl… "Hiwatari-san, really, you don't have to act like you're not mad! You can…you can even hit me if you want! Please!"

   Her mouth dropped open. "_Hit_ you? Niwa-kun, _what_ are you talking about? I just came to ask if I could borrow your notes from World History yesterday! I can't seem to find mine—I think I must have misplaced my notebooks, because I'm borrowing Mika-san's math and English notes as well…" Her eyes dropped towards the floor as she wrung her hands, embarrassed. "I just can't…remember where…"

   She couldn't remember? So she…didn't know…about him…? 

   _'I knew Hiwatari would find some way to save your butt—he always did have a soft spot for you Niwas, even if he is a Hikari. I'd tell you to thank him later, but I'm not so sure that's a good idea now_…_'_

   "Ne, Niwa-kun?" Daiichi snapped from his mental partner's speech. "Is it alright? Would you mind? I promise to return them as soon as I copy them!" 

   Kara looked up at him hopefully, blue eyes sparkling like sapphires, reflecting back at him the dappled sunlight streaming down through the trees. So pure, so beautiful…and she was begging him, so near, so…

   A tremor that felt like a tiny explosion deep inside his chest nearly sent Daiichi sprawling to the ground, and he gripped his chest, grunting out quickly, "H-hai, Hiwatari-san! I'll get them to you later—I gotta go!" Then he scrambled across the school grounds into the main building, headed for the boys' locker room at the end of the main hallway.

   _'Better hurry Daiichi-chan_…_'_ came the sing-song teasing inside his head, followed by a cackling that none but the Niwa boy could hear.

* * *

   It took him the next five minutes to finally calm down, barely retaining his own form after a solemn reminder from his alter-ego that if he transformed, it certainly wouldn't be easy to transform back—after all, Riku was all grown up now, and what's more she was _married_. The thrill of trying to woo the elder Harada twin had left him empty inside. No Risa, no Riku, no Rika—no one. Unless that Harada family just happened to keep a store of beautiful girls somewhere in that mansion of theirs, it was going to be quite a feat getting Daiichi back in his own body if they transformed.

   They managed to hurry back to his homeroom and reach his seat just as the first bell was ringing, and Daiichi slumped into his seat with a huff, not looking forward to the day at all. On the bright side, though, it didn't look as if Hiwatari-san remembered seeing him transform on the previous afternoon, so he didn't have to worry about dodging her all day. As if he needed to give her another excuse to dislike him…

   Lunchtime rolled around in the next few hours, and he retreated under a tree in a far corner of the school-yard and pulled out the bento his mother had prepared for him, eating it in slow, solemn silence as he mentally reviewed what all had happened in the last chaotic twenty-four hours.

   _'At least she's a better cook than her sister_…_' _Dark mentioned almost casually, idly slipping a tendril of magic into Daiichi's taste receptors, sharing in the enjoyment of the meal with his host. _'I can actually tell it's food.'_

   "She and Dad take turns cooking meals," Daiichi commented, crumpling up his paper bag to throw in the trashcan, "But more often than not Mom winds up finishing and shoving Dad out of the kitchen, saying something about how he hasn't changed since middle school."

   While Daiichi concentrated on his food, Dark extended himself to the boy's other four senses and observed the area around the two: touch let him know they were sitting on a soft grassy knoll in the sunshine, smell told him that the sauce in Daiichi's bento was a little spicy today, hearing alerted him to the sounds of laughter, attesting to the fact that there was a loud game of tag going on among a few of the lower classmen on the east end of the field, and sight…

   Sight told him that Daiichi was sitting all alone, on the other end of the field away from any classmates. The nearest group was the Hiwatari girl's gaggle of girlfriends, all giggling excitedly as they watched the game underway—any other children were either under the main breezeway with their lunches or inside.

   Why did this kid eat alone?…Didn't he have any friends to eat with? Sure, the Niwas weren't known for their staggering social skills, but even Daisuke had a few close friends, that loudmouth reporter Saehara being one of them. Outside of school Daisuke had been quite the introvert, but inside he was just your normal school kid, with friends and love interests. But this Daiichi…

   _'Alright kid,' _Dark spoke to himself where Daiichi couldn't hear him, _'Looks like you need my help more than I realized_…_'_

   After lunch, the rest of the day seemed to pass by more swiftly than the first half had, possibly due to Daiichi tuning out the majority of the lectures in favor of mental conversations with Dark—to his surprise, the thief was actually quite knowledgeable on the subject of the mid-nineteenth century for someone who only appeared every twenty years or so, depending on whether or not his previous host had a son or daughter.__

   _'And the politics, don't even get me started on that_…_for the first time in, like, two hundred years the Niwa family finally had quite a fortune to their name—all kinds of prestige and such, so naturally they had leeches sucking on them the whole time_…_ I could never understand what draws you humans so much about that money stuff_…_'_

   _'I guess you didn't care much about getting rich or anything, did you?'_ Daiichi queried, curious that such a being existed who didn't care about money.

   _'Kid, when your "life span" encompasses the amount of time it takes for your host to fall in love, you learn to live by the seat of your pants and not worry about things like money—add to that the fact that I had more important problems on my hands than that, like—'_

   "Niwa Daiichi—could you please answer the question, for the _third_ time? Are you paying attention young man?" a stern voice slit the air and jerked the boy from his reverie, eliciting silent laughter and a light, _'gomen, gomen,' _from Dark.

   "Ah, y-yes sir…" He flipped forward a few pages and scanned some paragraphs in an effort to make it appear he was simply searching for an answer. "Umm…would you mind repeating the question, Miyamoto-sensei?" he asked meekly.

   The man standing at the front slapped his head and repeated in a monotone, irritated voice the question he'd already asked numerous times, drawing snickers from Daiichi's classmates. After throwing them all dark, murderous looks, he brusquely answered correctly in an instant, then smirked at them all.

   "Thank you, Niwa-kun. Now, in the future, would you mind answering in that manner the _first_ time you're asked, or shall I take this matter up with Principal Saehara? You're usually not one to let your mind wander in class…"

   "Ah—n-no sir! It won't happen again!"

   Dark was speechless for a moment as Daiichi took his seat once more and read along silently in his book while the teacher went back to reviewing the latter half of the eighteen-hundreds. 

   _'Saehara_…_is the principal of this school?'_

   Daiichi looked up, pretending to focus on the talking head at the front of the room which had now sunken into a monotone review of what was going on in other areas of the world during the late 1800s. _'Yeah, why?'_

   _'Not_…_Saehara Takeshi_…_right? I mean, that's just ludicrous_…_not him, right?'_

   _'_…_Why would that be ludicrous? I mean, he's not the best principal we've ever had but—'_

   Daiichi could feel Dark mentally slapping himself in the head. _'You're kidding me_…_'_

* * *

   The end of the school day could not come soon enough for the poor harried little Niwa boy—how his father went through this every day at his age was beyond his scope of understanding. His head was pounding from all the mental repartee he'd engaged in that day, and suffice to say Miyamoto-sensei was _not_ the last of his teacher's to reprimand him for "daydreaming" in class.

   Today, though, he made no mad dash to grab his bag and shoot out the door to follow Hiwatari-san home, as he'd done in the past. In fact, thanks to yesterday's happenings, he'd probably never be able to follow her or get close to her again without running the risk of transforming. Slinging his pack around his shoulders and shoving his hands in his pockets, he traipsed dejectedly out the door, bound for his house.

   _'Ah, cheer up Dai-chan_…_frowns don't suit the Niwas!'_

   "Well please explain to me what _exactly_ I have to be cheerful about—I just got rejected by the greatest girl in school, which means I've got nothing left to strive for there, I've been possessed by the spirit of a phantom thief who's older than dirt—"

   _'Hey! I am not older than dirt, I'll have you know. With a face like this, I can't possibly be a decade over three hundred.'_

   "—and what's more, I think Mom undercooked some of those vegetables 'cause I'm not feeling too well right now…" He raised his head, eyelids drooping pathetically, and pouted a moan as he dragged his feet out through the gate. His stance got a bit more erect, though, when he spied a certain golden haired girl sliding into a stately black car in the school's front driveway. "…Hiwatari-san…she usually takes the trolley home, though, I thought."

   Before he could further question Kara's change of her usual means of travel homeward, however, the door on the other side of the car opened, and out stepped a tall man in a dark coat, pale blue locks brushing the top of his collar, sunlight glinting off of his wire-framed glasses.

   _'Well well well_…_guess we're going to have our little chat sooner than I'd thought_…_High Commander_…_' _Daiichi alone, though, heard Dark's comment, and responded in whispered confusion.

   "High Commander…? This guy?"

   The man strode forward in measured pace, and when he was within a few yards, Daiichi recognized him as the man who'd come to their house the previous night…the man who'd come because of his daughter…He stopped a couple of feet away from Daiichi and stared down, face a blank mask.

   "You are Niwa Daisuke's son, are you not?" The man's voice was cold and clipped; yesterday he'd not had this composure, Daiichi recalled—rather, he'd had trouble even standing upright for some reason.

   Daiichi caught himself, "Y-yes sir," he replied meekly. "Niwa Daiichi, sir."

   The stern face staring down at him softened a bit, as if he were pitying the timid boy, and Satoshi reminded him gently, "There's really no need for you to be so formal with me, Daiichi-kun. I can assure you that thing inside of you won't be formal at all when it comes to speaking about me. I believe he has a rather colorful repertoire of words he used frequently in my presence."

   Daiichi's eyes widened a bit at this and he relaxed slightly, "Then you…you really do know…about Dark?"

   Another smile, and he appeared to shake a little with silent laughter. "More than you can comprehend." He twitched his head slightly, as if something had gotten in his eyes, and squeezed them shut, then continued, "But, I'll make this short—I've only come to warn you to be careful—_both_ of you. After this meeting, you and I—or rather, Dark and I—will become enemies, just as before. I came to tell you to be sure and keep your head around Kara, don't get too close—for your own sake. I can't go around erasing memories left and right every time you happen to slip up and transform in front of others. I modified Kara's memory this once, for her sake mainly—but consider it your one freebie, my parting gift to you, Niwa Daiichi.

   "As for you, Dark—" He now directed his words to the thief, "—You take care of this boy, he's in your charge now. I trust you realize what's going to happen to the artworks now that your seal has been broken. This afternoon I will reassume my position at police headquarters as Commander in charge of your capture. That means I'll be waiting for you, however you may choose to arrive. I may have been on good terms with your former host, but I still am, above anything else, a Hikari clan member, bound to protect its property.

   "Dark—that boy is not Daisuke. He doesn't know _anything_—"

   "Hey!" Daiichi interrupted, slightly peeved at the accusation, "I know things! I know lots of things—"

   "_Dark_," Satoshi continued, ignoring the interruption, "Your own skills are all you have to rely on, do you understand that? You can't pull any of the stunts you did twenty years ago and depend on the boy to get you out of tight spots on his own merit—he is _not_ a phantom thief. As I did with Daisuke, I will not threaten you or him outside of your little smash-and-grab jobs…but I warn you, if you slip up, I cannot be responsible for the consequences." His eyes narrowed to tiny slits. "So _don't_ slip up."

   Daiichi gulped nervously, about to turn and make a dash away from Satoshi's frightening gaze, when Dark's voice echoed a loud command in his skull, _'Ask him why he's telling us this_…_'_

   "He—he wants to know…why you're telling us this, why you're warning us. He says a true Hikari would never help a Niwa without some ulterior motive…"

   A twisted smile eased onto Satoshi's lips, "Always the skeptic, weren't you Dark? But…there is no catch on my part—"

   "He says you're lying," Daiichi interrupted again, tone flat and without accusation, merely relaying the message with startling calm. "He says there's no way that guy would let you come talk to us without making some attempt on my life."

   "_That guy_? Ah…well, I did say there was no catch on _my_ part. But you are correct, normally he wouldn't let me hold a civil conversation like this without trying to manifest. So he agreed to allow me to come out here unhindered…under one condition."

   "…What's the condition?"

   "Under the condition that Dark meet him. Tomorrow night, midnight, on the roof of the Central Art Museum."

   "…He says what if he refuses?"

   Satoshi hesitated for a moment and looked away at the ground to the left of Daiichi's feet, as if gathering the strength to reply. "If Dark refuses the request…then I can't be responsible for what happens." A deep pause. "To you, Niwa Daiichi."

   The boy felt a large lump lodge uncomfortably in his throat, and barely forced out the message, "He accepts."

   "Very well, I leave you in Dark's care then. I will not see you again outside of the nights when Dark goes out to do what it is phantom thieves do best—so I wish you luck in staying alive. Farewell little Niwa." With that, Satoshi turned swiftly on his heel and marched back to the car, long black coat floating behind him as he slid in beside his daughter.

   Inside the automobile, Kara studied her father carefully. "What was that about, Papa? I didn't know you knew Niwa-kun."

   He smiled softly, "I simply asked him to pass a greeting along to his father and mother, since it's been so long since I've seen them."

   Her eyes brightened excitedly at this revelation. "You know Niwa-kun's parents?"

   He turned his head forward and instructed the driver to take them home, before replying, "…A long, long time ago…I knew them a long time ago…"

   And inside his mind a smile crept across a face hidden in shadow, _'Now, see how much easier things are when we're civil with each other, Satoshi-sama?'_

* * *

   As soon as the long black car had pulled away from the school, Daiichi turned back towards the trolley station—then on second thought opted to walk home. The uphill journey from his house to school was not a fun one to make on foot, but going back down wasn't so bad. As he trudged along, he once again took up a mental conversation with his new alter ego.

   "Well, I don't guess that went so badly…at least Hiwatari-san didn't find out about me, so I can act normal around her again!"

   _'Normal? Hello—remember? Phantom thief, encoded into your DNA? Pops up whenever you think a little too much about this girl? Now, not that I wouldn't love to make special guest appearances every now and then whenever you feel like letting me stretch my limbs—please, don't hesitate. However, I do have a bit of a problem with you getting us into trouble by forgetting about me. So take my advice and stay away from her; and I'm not just talking about for the sake of not transforming.'_

   "Wha—stay away from her?! I…I can't do _that_! Hey—did you ever tell my dad to stay away from whoever it was _he_ liked?" No response. "Then don't try and tell me if I can or can't be around Hiwatari-san. I can handle myself, alright?" At his last statement, though, Daiichi backed off, fearing he'd come across too harsh, and wanted to apologize—however, whatever pride he'd inherited from Riku prevented him from doing so, so he instead opted to not open his big mouth again the rest of the way home.

   "I'm home!" he called into the seemingly empty house, shutting the door behind him as he entered and removed his shoes. "Dad?"

   "In here," called a voice from the living room, and he peeked into the den area to see his father poring over a newspaper, a serious expression painted on his features, with his mother seated beside him—her face, though, could only be described as _pissed_, with her arms folded across her chest and an angry pout on her lips. Daisuke looked up a moment later and motioned for his son to enter and sit on the loveseat across from them. He then folded up the paper and set it on the coffee table in front of him, then leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees with his chin in his hands.

   "Daiichi…Dark…there's something your mother and I need to discuss with you…"

   _'Ooh, do tell, Mom_…_'_ Dark quipped slyly, earning himself a harsh "Shh!" from Daiichi.

   "Actually your _father_ is the only one who wants to discuss it—I think I've made it very clear that I'm against this—"

   Daisuke regarded her with a swift "Riku-san, _please_…" then turned back to his son. "Daiichi, Dark…is a phantom thief, a _kaitou_, do you know what that is?" The boy thought for a moment and then realized that though he'd heard the term used quite often in reference to Dark, he didn't really understand what it implied, so he shook his head, and Daisuke sighed. "Dark's job is to steal any Hikari artwork he can get his hands on and then subsequently seal away the magic inherently present in it endowed by its creator—if he doesn't do this, the magic will get out of control and seek alternate routes to release it—usually destructive routes. The original Hikari artists could control this magic—after all, they supplied it, but as the artworks were disseminated over time and the artists died off, it became destructive. So Dark tracks down these artworks and uses his own powers to seal them. That's what he does. That's what he's always done, for all the years he's been a part of the Niwa family. My grandfather was a thief, I was a thief…and now you, Daiichi, must become one as well."

   His jaw dropped. "A…_thief_? You want me to go out and _steal_ stuff?! Are you _crazy_?" Daisuke's face was still quite serious, and it was obvious he was definitely not joking. "Dad—_what_ are you saying? I mean, I can't—I can't just go out and steal paintings and stuff just because that's what's been done before—for one thing it's _wrong_."

   "Daiichi, if you don't do this, if Dark doesn't do this, then the artworks will begin to decay and leak magic into unsuspecting receptors, and the magic in turn will be turned to harmful ends. It's not a matter of _wanting_ to do this, and it's not a matter of morals—I've already explained this to your mother. Being a phantom thief is about duty, about helping, about saving—you simply do it all by stealing. With Dark unsealed, then the magic is active once more in the artworks, calling him. Ask him, he'll tell you I'm telling the truth, because he can feel it as well."

   Daiichi flashed back to his earlier talk with Satoshi: _"I trust you realize what's going to happen to the artworks now that your seal has been broken."_

   "I still don't understand…" Riku's voice interrupted his thoughts, "…why we're even worrying about this anyway, Daisuke-kun. You said you talking to Hiwatari-kun, right? So then, that Dark's not even going to be here for very long—as soon as you two figure out just how this all happened, everything's going to go back to normal. And in the meantime I don't want my only son learning how to pick locks and dodge the police—!"

   "Riku-san, it's not…that simple. Dark isn't some disease you can cure with a pill and a week's bed rest, and he's not some switch you can turn on and off—he's a living breathing being, with thoughts and feelings and—and _purpose_." He turned his ruby eyes to his son, and behind them could be detected the Daisuke from twenty years beforehand—the Daisuke who still missed Dark, the Daisuke who, in truth, envied his son a little bit. "Hiwatari-kun and I _are_ trying to figure out how this all happened—he's going through every book on sealing magic he can get his hands on, and I'm trying to get in touch with my mother and father to see if they've got any idea what's going on, but they're still in the Caribbean on that third honeymoon of theirs for the rest of the week at least. I don't think anyone wants to get this sorted out as much as Hiwatari-kun does—but it's going to take time. And the artworks won't wait."

   _'Is_…_is all that true?'_ Daiichi tested, almost fearful of the answer.

   _'Afraid so kid. It's my job, my duty, and my pleasure to take things from those stuck-up Hikaris—always has been. Daisuke's right, though, I have to do it_…_So will you help?'_

   The boy closed his eyes and rubbed his hands over them, suddenly very tired from being bombarded with all these questions and "you _have_ to do this" situations. He really didn't want to resort to something as demeaning as thievery—after all, it was just plain _wrong_! It was…it was…

   _'If it makes you feel any better, Daiichi_…_your dad didn't want to do it at first either.'_

   _'What?_…_He didn't?'_

   _'But he eventually did agree—not for me, not for his family honor, but because it was a way to help. Daisuke was_…_he was something else. I don't think he really knew why he agreed to become a phantom thief at first, but after a while he realized that it wasn't just about stealing Hikari artworks—nothing's that simple in this family. There's something more, something deeper_…_something you can only find when you do it_…_'_

   Daiichi gulped, then sighed low, acquiescing at last. "I…I'll do it." His father looked over, eyes hopeful. "I'll…be a phantom thief with Dark."

   Daisuke smiled wearily, as if he too were tired out from the ordeal. "Thank you…Daiichi-chan."

* * *

   _'Wh—where am I?' _Wait…_ 'Why can't I talk? Hello?_…_Dark? Hey—Dark!'_

   Daiichi turned his head this way and that, searching his surroundings—his first clue that something was wrong should have been the fact that he couldn't see _anything_. Everywhere was an inky black impenetrable darkness—he couldn't even see his own hand in front of his face.

   Suddenly, though, before he could question any further, everything exploded in a brilliant flash of white hot light, and he could almost feel his own eyes burning in pain, blinking away tears as he raised his arms in front of him—he could _see_ now!

   Wait—no…this was different…it was like…it was like how it had been when he'd transformed into Dark in front of Hiwatari-san! He could see, hear, smell, _feel_…but it wasn't as if they were really his senses. It was like sitting in the back of an empty movie theater with the reel playing just for him—he could watch it all go by from his safe seat, indirectly experiencing it all. So…

   _'A dream_…_? Well, I mean, what else could it be? It has to be a dream_…_Dark?' _Still the phantom thief would not answer, and this worried him a bit. Could Dark not see his dreams? Should he appreciate this as the one moment in his new life where he could finally be alone with his thoughts?

   Whatever was going on, he could tell that his body was lying on the ground, flat on his back, spread eagle and completely helpless. The flash of light had died away, and the sky stretching endlessly above him was the deep violet of evening, saturated with the reflected city lights from below. Bits of sharp gravel were digging into his back, hardly protected by the thin fabric of the outfit he was wearing.

   Though he couldn't move his head, he heard slow steady footsteps approaching from somewhere behind him, hidden from view at the angle he was lying, but soon it came into his line of sight—tall, dressed in a white cloak, with golden hair that reached nearly to the ground despite its being pulled into a ponytail. Immaculate boots stopped an inch from his head and he could do nothing but peer up at the smiling face.

   "Aah…hiding behind that tamer of yours _still_? Will you not come out and face me properly, or have I alarmed you so much that you find it undesirable to face me now?" Even if Daiichi had wanted to reply, his mouth would not move no matter how he tried—but it appeared the figure didn't really care in the least if he replied or not. "I see…then, a parting gift, from the Hikaris to the Niwas."

   For a split second, Daiichi's eye was drawn to the figure's gloved hands as they wrapped snugly around the hilt of a gleaming golden sword, moonlight glinting off the blade as it was swung high over the man's head. And his final thought was only, _'How beautiful_…_'_ before the slashing edge dropped like a golden guillotine and cleaved the helpless boy in two at his waist. Every nerve ending burned with pain and seared his consciousness, drawing out a pitiable howl of mixed shock and horror as he registered the action.

   A dream—a dream—_NO_! This was no dream—this _couldn't _be a dream! No dream could hurt like this, no—no—_no_—!

   "_NO!_" he screamed like a banshee, shooting straight up and twisting himself until he was nearly being strangled by his own sheets, clawing and scratching at his pillowcase. Within a matter of seconds Riku and Daisuke came running in to find out what had happened.

   But someone had already beaten them to it—Dark. He'd borne witness to the entire dream sequence and was more than familiar with what his host had just experienced, and was frantically trying to direct the terror-stricken boy's wild thoughts.

   _'Daiichi—Daiichi, listen to me—'_

   "Daiichi! What happened?! Honey, what's wrong—what is it?"

   "Daiichi—are you alright? Daiichi! Answer us!"

   He whimpered pathetically and clamped his hands over his ears, squeezing his eyes shut to try and keep the tears of pain and panic from leaking out and betraying him. His entire body was shaking like a leaf, his face white as the very sheets he was cocooned in, and above anything else he was aware that he was very, very cold.

   His parents moved to question him again, their worry mounting by the second, but once again they were beaten by the one voice which couldn't be blocked. 

   _'Listen_ _to me kid—tell them it was a dream, tell them all that happened was you had a bad dream.'_ Daiichi didn't reply mentally or physically. _'TELL THEM! Tell them now Daiichi—I don't care how you get them out but do it, and do not tell them what you saw.'_

   Another silent, tension-filled few seconds passed before he opened his mouth, quivering out a feeble, "S-sorry…it was…I had a dream…just a bad dream…I'm alright n-now…"

   The two parents exchanged dubious looks. "Are you sure, Daiichi-chan…? You just…you scared us, is all—do you wanna tell us what happened—?"

   '_NO!'_

   "No! I—no…no, it's alright, I just…wanna go back to bed now…I'll be fine…really." As unconvincing as this assurance was, Daisuke and Riku seemed faced with no other choice than to leave their son to his own devices. After wishing him goodnight and urging him to have better dreams, they exited the darkened room, shutting the door behind him.

   "D-Dark…what the _hell_ was _that_?!"

   _'You saw_…_one of my memories. I—I'm sorry_…_I didn't mean for you to see that_…_'_

   "Your _memories_?" Daiichi hissed angrily, untangling himself from his covers as he searched for a more comfortable position, still shaking involuntarily. "You mean I have to live with your _memories_ too?!"

   _'No_…_in fact you're not supposed to be able to see them at all_…_I slipped up and dropped my shield, I'm—I swear it won't happen again_…_There's no reason you should have had to see that_…_'_

   Slumping back down against his pillow, palms cradling his head as he stared up to the ceiling, Daiichi sighed low and tried to consciously slow down his still-racing heart rate. "…Where did that kind of memory _come_ from anyway? I…I couldn't understand any of it…"

   _'I'm not surprised—it was from one of my first incarnations. Niwa Ryuichi. He was_…_he was a good kid, really shy and quiet, kinda like Daisuke, but even more so. I guess I could compare him to Daiki, Daisuke's grandfather, but you didn't know him, did you?' _Daiichi shook his head. _'I was_…_I did something very, very stupid, and I paid for it with my life.'_

   "Your…_life_? Who…" He paused, wondering at the sensitivity of such a subject.

   _'Who killed me, you wanna ask? I would've thought you'd have been able to guess, from your dad's talk last night and our meeting with Hiwatari this afternoon._

   _'It was nearly three hundred years ago, the Edo period_…_I guess you could say I was young and stupid, even though I looked exactly like I do now. But my mind wasn't in the right place—I was reckless and thought I was invincible. I didn't regard him as a serious threat_…_Krad.'_

   "Krad…I remember Dad mentioning him…"

   _'I'd made some moves I thought would throw him off and let me escape without much problem, but I miscalculated an important factor and he had me up against a wall—with no way out. He'd already deprived me of my wings, and I never carry around any weapons or anything like that, so I was completely helpless_…

   _'I knew_…_I knew he wouldn't let me go_…_so I made myself change back into Ryuichi, banking on the fact that he'd just give up when he couldn't get me—to just get my host would be beneath him_…_I was sorely mistaken. Like I said, I underestimated him, and when I didn't change back_…_He used that sword—the Toki no Kusabi_…_it's actually one of their own artpieces, you know, so I guess he had some kind of affinity for it._

   _'But I_…_all I can remember after I saw him draw that sword_…_was Ryuichi screaming for me to help him, to come back out and fight Krad_…_that he—that he didn't want to die. He was begging, begging with all his life, even up to the final moments_…_and all I could do was watch—watch the blood pouring out, draining his life_…_knowing deep down that I would be coming back, that this was just a setback for another few years_…_but that he wouldn't._

   _'We can be reborn, Krad and me_…_our hosts can't.'_

   "…_That_'s the memory I saw? You actually keep a memory like that, of your host _dying_?"

   _'I keep a memory like that to always remind me of what will happen when I get too cocky around that guy—'_

   "And _that's_ who Hiwatari wants you to meet tomorrow?! That's what he meant when he told you the condition earlier? That—that _thing_ that killed Niwa Ryuichi?!"

   _'Yes.'_ His tone was not defensive in the least, but rather flat and with a "there's nothing you can do about it now, so stop whining" air.

   "And you just _agreed_ without a second thought to walk right into a meeting with him?! Without even asking me?! This is my body too, you know!"

   _'First of all, understand that you didn't even know who the 'he' was that Hiwatari and I were talking about, and there was no way to explain it to you in that short amount of time. And even if I had asked your opinion—would you have agreed?"_

   "_Hell_ no."

   _'Then there's your answer. I had to agree to meet him without explaining to you—'_

   "Why?!"

   _'Because if I didn't he would've killed you right then!'_

   Not surprisingly, Daiichi had no immediate response to this revelation. "Wha…what are you talking about? Why would he want to kill me—I thought it was _you_ he was after!"

   _'He uses you to get to me—kill one and the other dies. If you die I die, if I die you die. Either way fulfils his purpose—'_

   "You're telling me he's gonna come after _me_?!"

   _'Not if Hiwatari can help it—he won't come after you outside of our thieving jobs. If he could control himself when Daisuke was my host, he shouldn't have any trouble controlling himself now.'_

   "_Shouldn't_…why am I disinclined to believe you? I…I didn't agree to risking my _life_, Dark! I agreed to help you seal away some stupid paintings and statues—not _this_. You may have an eternity to live, but me, I'm just a fourteen-year-old kid who's trying to get a girl he likes to notice the real him. This is…no! I can't do this! I'm not gonna _die _for—"

   _'You're right, Daiichi—you're not going to die, understand? Not so long as I can help it—that memory, it was just a dream for you. You won't see it, experience it, remember it well beyond this day—though I'm sorry to say that, being one of my memories, it won't ever completely leave you. But me, I have to see it every single day—I will never be able to drown out Ryuichi's cries, nor will I ever get rid of the guilt. That's the downside to being a demi-immortal._

   _'All I can do is solemnly swear that it will never happen again—Daiichi. I will not let that happen to you, it's my duty to protect you as my Niwa host.'_

   Daiichi curled up into a fetal position, eyes half-lidded with fatigue, a hand unconsciously rubbing his abdomen, which he would still swear was slit open. Pulling the sheets up over him and clenching his eyes shut, he murmured, "I…Dark, I don't…" _Why_…why was he acting so childish? He shouldn't be so scared, it was just a dream…just a _dream_!

   _'Daiichi.' _His eyes opened slightly, tiny quivering slits. _'On my honor as a phantom thief, I will not let him hurt you.'_

   A sad smile, and Daiichi couldn't help but retort softly, "I thought there was no honor among thieves…"

   In a corner of the boy's mind, Dark too smiled, glad that he appeared to trust him a bit more. _'Maybe—but I'm a phantom thief.'_

_fin chapter six_

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_Post Chapter notes: _Alright, yes, this chapter is out _REALLY_ quickly, think of it as an apology for taking so long on the last one. However, I noticed I didn't really get a whole lot done action-wise in this chapter, and that may be because this isn't so much an action fic. And Krad made his semi-entrance here, like I said, but…Next chapter: naturally, the big reunion between our boys Dark and Krad (can we possibly expect some civility out of Krad? Yeah right…), more Sato/Krad tension, and of course we can't forget our Daiichi/Kara moments as well—and just _who_ is going to make Dark transform back to Daiichi? Mwahahahaaa….wait and see ^_^. Also, the next chapter may have some heavy manga spoilers, so if you don't want to be spoiled (you know you _do_ though!), beware!—sage


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